
QassSXVlSA 
Book X NV^ 



THE 




ELEMENTS 



ORAL SCIENCE 



By FRANCIS WAYLAND, D. D., 

PUESIDENT OF BROAVN UNIVERSITY, AND PROFESSOR OF 
MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 



FORTIETH THOUSAND. 



BOSTON: 
GOULD AND LINCOLN 

S9 lYASHINGTOK STREET. 

1851. 



y^^'^ 



^i 






Entered according to Act of Congress, m tne year 1835, 

By Francis Wayland, 

in tlie District Clerk's Office of the District Court of Rhode Island, 






P li E F A C E . 



In presenting to the public a new treatise upon 
Moral Science, it may not be improper to state 
the circumstances which led to the undertaking, 
and the design which it is intended to accomplish. 

When it became my duty to instruct in Moral 
Philosophy, in Brown University ,~ the text-book 
in use w^as the work of Dr. Paley. From many 
of his principles I found myself compelled to dis- 
sent, and, at first, I contented myself with stating 
to my classes my objections to the author, and 
offering my views, in the form of familiar conver- 
sations, upon several of the topics which he dis- 
cusses. These views, for my own convenience, 
I soon committed to paper, and delivered, in the 
form of lectures. In a few years, these lectures 
had become so far extended, that, to my surprise, 
they contained, by themselves, the elements of a 
different system from that of the text-book which 
I was teaching. To avoid the inconvenience of 
teaching two different systems, I undertook to 
reduce them to order, and to make such addi- 
tions, as would render the work in some measure 
complete within itself. I thus relinquished the 
work of Dr. Paley, and, for some time, have 



PREFACE. 



been in the habit of instructing solely by lecture. 
The success of the attempt exceeded my expec- 
tations, and encouraged me to hope, that the 
publication of what I had delivered to my classes, 
might, in some small degree, facilitate the study 
of moral science 

From these circumstances the work has de- 
rived its character. Being designed for the pur- 
poses of instruction, its aim is, to be simple, clear, 
and purely didactic. I have rarely gone into ex- 
tended discussion, but have contented myself 
with the attempt to state the moral law, and the 
reason of it, in as few and as comprehensive 
terms as possible. The illustration of the princi- 
ples, and the application of them to cases in or- 
dinary life, I have generally left to the instructor, 
or to the student himself. Hence, also, I have 
omitted every thing which relates to the history 
of opinions, and have made but little allusion 
even to the opinions themselves, of those from 
whom I dissent. To have acted otherwise, 
would have extended the undertaking greatly be- 
yond the limits which I had assigned to myself; 
and it seemed to me not to belong to the design 
which I had in view. A work which should at- 
tempt to exhibit what was true, appeared to me 
more desirable than one which should point out 
what was exploded, discuss what was doubtful, 
or disprove what was false. 

In the course of the work, I have quoted but 
few authorities, as, in preparing it, I have refer- 
red to but few books. I make this remark in no 
manner for the sake of laying claim to originality, 
but to avoid the imputation of using the labors of 



PREFACE 



Others without acKnoAvledgment When I com- 
menced the undertaking, I attempted to read ex- 
tensively, but soon found it so difficult to arrive 
at any definite results, in this manner, that the 
necessities of my situation obliged me to rely 
upon my own reflection. That. I have thus come 
to the same conclusions with many others, 1 
should be unwilling to doubt. When this coinci- 
dence of opinion has come to my knowledge, I 
have mentioned it. When it is not mentioned, it 
is because I have not known it. 

The author to whom I am under the greatest 
obligations is Bishop Butler. The chapter on 
Conscience is, as I suppose, but little more than 
a development of his ideas on the same subject. 
How much more I owe to this incomparable wri- 
ter, I know not. As it was the study of his ser- 
mons on human nature, that first turned my at- 
tention to this subject, there are, doubtless, many 
trains of thought which I have derived from hnn, 
but which I have not been able to trace to their 
source, as they have long since become incorpo- 
rated with my own reflections. The article on 
the Sabbath, as is stated in the text, is derived 
chiefly from the tract of Mr. J. J. Gurney, on the 
same subject. Entertaining those views of the 
Sacred Scriptures, which I have expressed in the 
work itself, it is scarcely necessary to add here, 
that I consider them the great source of moral 
truth ; and that a system of ethics will be true, 
just in proportion as it develops their meaning. 
To do this has been my object ; and to have, in 
ever so humble a manner, accomplished it, I shall 
consider as the greatest possible success. 
1* 



PREFACE. 



It is not without much diffideuce, that I have 
ventured to lay before the public a work on this 
important subject That something of this sort 
was needed, has long been universally confessed. 
M}^ professional duty led me to undertake it; 
and I trust that the hope of usefulness has in- 
duced me to prepare it for publication. If I 
have not been so happy as to elucidate truth, I 
have endeavored to express myself in such a 
manner, that the reader shall have as little trou- 
ble as possible in detecting my errors. And if 
it shall be found, that I have thrown any light 
whatever upon the science of human duty, I shall 
have unspeakable cause for gratitude to that 
Spirit, whose inspiration alone teacheth man un- 
derstanding. And my cause for gratitude will 
scarcely be less, should my failure incite some 
one, better able than myself to do justice to the 
subject, to a more successful undertaking. 

Brown University, April, 1835. 



PREFACE 



SECOND EDITION 



A SECOND edition of the Elements of Moral 
Science having been demanded, within a much 
shorter period than was anticipated, I have given 
to the revisal of it all the attention which mj 
avocations have permitted. 

The first edition, owing to circumstances 
which could not be foreseen, was, unfortunately, 
in several places, inaccurate in typographical exe- 
cution. I have endeavored, I hope with better 
success, to render the present edition, in this 
respect, less liable to censure. In a few cases, 
single words and modes of expression have also 
been changed. I have, however, confined myself 
to verbal corrections, and have, in no case that I 
remember, intentionally altered the sense. 

Having understood that the work has been 
introduced, as a text- book, into some of our 
highest seminaries of education, I hope that I 
may be forgiven, if I suggest a few hints as to 
the manner in which I suppose it may be most 
successfully used for this purpose. 



8 PREFACE. 

1. In the recitation room, let neither instructor 
nor pupil ever make use of the book. 

2. Let the portion previously assigned for the 
exercise, be so mastered by the pupil, both in 
plan and illustration, that he will be able to re- 
cite it in order, and explain the connection of the 
different parts with each other, without the ne- 
cessity of assistance from his instructor. To give 
the language of the author is not, of course, 
desirable. It is sufficient if the idea be given. 
The questions of the instructor should have 
respect to principles that may be deduced from 
the text, practical application of the doctrines, 
objections which may be raised, &lc, 

S, Let the lesson which was recited on one 
day, be invariably reviewed on the day succeed- 
ing. 

4. As soon as any considerable progress has 
been made in the work, let a review from the 
beginning be commenced. This should com- 
prehend, for one exercise, as much as had been 
previously recited in two or three days ; and 
should be confined to a brief analysis of the 
argument, with a mere mention of the illustra- 
tions. 

5. As soon as the whole portion thus far re- 
cited, has been reviewed, let a new review be 
commenced, and continued in the same manner ; 
and thus on successively, until the work is com- 
pleted. By pursuing this method, a class will, 
at any period of the course of study, be enabled, 
with the slightest effort, to recall whatever they 
have already acquired ; and when the work is 
completed, they will be able to pursue the whole 



PREFACE. 9 

thread of the argument, from the beginning to 
the end ; and thus to retain a knowledge, not 
only of the individual principles, but also of their 
relations to each other. 

But the advantage of this mode of study is 
not confined to that of a more perfect knowl- 
edge of this or of any other book. By present- 
ing the whole field of thought at one view be- 
fore the mind, it will cultivate the power of 
pursuing an extended range of argument ; of 
examining and deciding upon a connected chain 
of reasoning ; and will, in no small degree, ac- 
custom the student to carry forward in his own 
mind a train of original investigation. 

I have been emboldened to make these sug- 
gestions, not in the least because I suppose the 
present work worthy of any peculiar attention 
from an instructor, but simply because, having 
been long in the habit of pursuing this method, 
and having witnessed its results in my own 
classes, 1 have thought it my duty to suggest it 
to those who are engaged in the same profession 
with myself. Other instructors may have suc- 
ceeded better with other methods. I have suc- 
ceeded best with this. 

At the suggestion of some of his friends, the 
author has it in contemplation to prepare a small 
abridgment of the present work, in duodecimo, 
for the use of schools and academies. It will 
be published as soon as his engagements will 
permit. 

Brown University, September, 1835. 



PREFACE 



FOURTH EDITION 



The publishers having thought proper to give to the 
Elements of Moral Science a more permanent form, I 
have revised the work with all the care that my engage- 
ments would allow. In doing this, I have made many- 
verbal alterations ; I have modified some paragraphs ; some 
I have transposed, and a few I have added. 

I embrace, with pleasure, this opportunity of returning 
my grateful acknowledgments to those gentlemen who, 
either privately or through the medium of the press, have 
favored me with their critical remarks. I have endeavored 
to weigh their suggestions with all the impartiality in my 
power. Where I have been convinced of error, I have 
altered the text. Where I have only doubted, I have suffer- 
ed it to remain ; as it seemed profitless merely to exchange 
one doubtful opinion for another. Where, notwithstanding the 
arguments advanced, my views remained unchanged, I have 
aM) contented myself with allowing the text to stand with- 
out additional remark. The reasons for so doing may be 
very briefly stated : — I supposed that those considerations 
in favor of what I had advanced, which occurred to me, 
would naturally occur to any other person ; and I seem to 
myself to have observed that the public really take very 
little interest in the controversies of authors. A very con- 
siderable amount of manuscript, which I had prepared for 
the purpose of publication, in connection with this edition, I 
have therefore suffered to lie quietly in my desk. 

Brown University, January, 1837 



CONTENTS 



PLAN OF THE WORK 



BOOK FIRST. 

THEORETICAL. ETHICS. 

CHAPTER FIRST. 

Page. 
Of the Origin of our Notion of the Moral Quality of 
Actions, 23 

SECTION I. 

Of Moral Law,. ^3 

Of law in general, 23 

Of moral law, 24 

SECTION 11. 

What is a moral Action ? 26 

Of action, 20 

Of moral action, 29 

SECTION III. 

In what part of an Action do we discover its moral Quality f 30 

The intention, • 31 

When is intention wrong ? 31 

SECTION IV. 

Vtlicnce do we derive our Notion of the moral Quality of Actions ? .. 33 

Is it a moditication of any other idea ? 33 

Is it an exercise of the judgment ? . . . , 35 



■I* 



12 CONTENTS. 

Puge. 

Is it derived from association ? 35 

Is it derived from the idea of tlie greatest amount of happiness ? 36 
General view of the subject, 44 



CHAPTER SECOND. 

Conscience, or th£ Moral SensEv ••• -••'>*« 49 

SECTION I. 

Is there a Conscience ? 49 

Question considered, 50 

Objections answered, 50 

SECTION II. 

Of the Manner in which the Decision of Conscience is expressed, ... 53 

Its discriminating power, 53 

Its impulsive power, 54 

A source of pleasure or of pain, 56 

Illustrations, 57 

SECTION III. 

The Authority of Conscience, 59 

From the conceptions which we form of it, , 60 

By a comparison of the actions of men and inferior animals,. . . 61 
From the necessity of this supremacy to the accomplishment of 

it^ object, 63 

SECTION IV. 

Law by which Conscience is governed, 71 

As a discriminating power, 72 

As an impulsive power, 74 

As a source of pleasure or pain, 76 

SECTION V. 

^ Rules for moral Conduct, 79 

CHAPTER THIRD. 

The Nature of Virtue, 85 

SECTION I. 

Of Virtue in general, 85 

SECTION II. 

Of Virtue in imperfect Beings, 88 

Limit of moral obligation, 89 

Moral relations of habit, 96 



CHAPTER FOURTH. 

Page. 

Human Happiness, 99 

The gratification of desire, 99 

WitMn limits, 101 

CHAPTER FIFTH. 

Of Self-love, 104 

Nature of self-love, 104 

Its relative rank, 107 

CHAPTER SIXTH. 

Imperfection of Conscience} Necessity of some addi- 
tional Moral Light, Ill 

Imperfection of conscience, Ill 

Necessity of additional light, 113 

What light might be expected, 115 

CHAPTER SEVENTH. 
Of Natural Religion,. 118 

SECTION I. 

Of the Manner in which we learn our Duty by the Light of JVature, 318 

From general consequences, 119 

Objection considered, 122 

SECTION II. 

Hoiofar we may learn our Duty by the Light of Mature,. 125 

Knowledge acquired in this manner, 125 

Motives which it presents, 127 

SECTION III. 

Defects of the System of Natural Religion, 129 

From facts, 129 

From the nature of the case, 131 

CHAPTER EIGHTH. 

Relations between Natural and Revealed Religion,.... 134 

What expectations to be entertained, 134 

These are realized by revelation, „ 135 

CHAPTER NINTH. 

The Holy Scriptures, ....♦ 139 

2 



14 



CONTENTS. 



SFXTION I. 

Pag© 

B View nf the Holy Scriptures, 139 

The Old Testament, 139 

The .New Testament, •. . 141 

SECTION 11. 

fn lokat Manner are we to ascertain our Dutij by the Holy Scrip- 
tures ? 142 

VVhat is excluded, 144 

What is included, 145 

Our means of moral instruction, 147 



BOOK SECOND. 

PRACTICAL, S:THICS, 

PART FIRST. 

LOVE TO GOD, OR PIETY. 



CHAPTER FIRST. 

General Obligation to Supreme Love to God, 152 

Relation between God and Man, 152 

Rights and obligations arising from this relation, 154 

These suited to our nature, 163 

CHAPTER SECOND. 

Of a Devotional Spirit, 1C5 

CHAPTER THIRD. 

Of Prayer, 170 

Nature of prayer, 170 

Kinds of prayer, 171 

Duty of prayer, 172 

" " from our condition, L 172 

" « from the Scriptures, 173 

Tlie utility of prayer, 175 



CONTENTS. 15 

CHAPTER FOURTH. 

Page. 

Observance of the Sabbath, lyg 

Original institution of the Sabbath, 178 

The Mosaic Sabbath, 181 

The Christian Sabbath, 183 

The day to be observed, 183 

The manner of its observance, 186 

Duty of magistrates in respect to it, 188 

PART SECOND. 

DUTIES TO MAN. 

DIVISION FIRST. — RECIPROCITY. 
DIVISION SECOND. — BENEVOLENCE. 

DIVISION FIRST. 

RECIPROCITY. 

General Principles illustrated, and the Duties or Re- 
ciprocity CLASSIFIED, 190 

Nature of human equality, 190 

Subject illustrated, 191 

Teaching of the Scriptures, 194 

Classification of the duties of reciprocity, 196 

CLASS FIRST. 

JUSTICE AND VERACITY. 
OF JUSTICE. 

CHAPTER FIRST. 
Personal Liberty, 200 

SECTION 1. 

\ature of personal Liberty, 200 

Physical Liberty, 201 

Intellectual Liberty, 202 

Religious Liberty, 204 

Exceptions, 204 



16 . CONTENTS. 

SECTION 11. 

Page 

Modes in wliick personal LiherLy may be violated, ... • 206 

By the individual, as in domestic slavery, , , 206 

Its nature and effects, 207 

Doctrine of the Scriptures, 209 

Duties of masters, 214 

Duties of slaves, 2] 6 

Personal liberty violated by society, 216 

Violation of physical liberty, 217 

Violation of intellectual liberty, 218 

Violation of religious liberty, 225 

CHAPTER SECOND. 
Justice as it respects Propeuty, 229 

SECTION I. 

The Right of Property, 229 

Definition, 329 

On what the right of property is founded, 229 

Modes in which the right of property may be acquired,. ..-_.... 232 

SECTION II. 

Modes in ichich the Right of Property may be violated by the Indi- 
vidual, 236" 

Without consent,—!. Theft. 2. Robbery, 237 

By consent fraudulently obtained,.- 238 

(a.) Where no equivalent is offered, 238 

(b.) Where the equivalent is different from what it purports to 
be, 238 

1. Where the equivalent is material, and the transfer perpetual, 238 
The law of buyer and seller, 233 

2. When the transfer is temporary, 243 

Interest or loan of money, 243 

Loan of other property, 247 

Insurance, 248 

3. Where the equivalent is immaterial, 249 

Of master and servant, 249 

Of principal and agent, 250 

Of representatives, , 2r;3 

SECTION III. 
Right of Property as violated by Society, 254 

CHAPTER THIRD. 

TUSTTCE AS IT RESPECTS CHARACTER, 258 

Nature of the obligation, 258 

Violated by weakening the moral restraints of men, 260 

Violated by exciting their evil dispositions, 261 



CONTENTS. 17. 

CHAPTER FOURTH. 

Page. 

Justice as it Respecis Reputation, 264 

Nature of the obligation, 264 

Givin<T publicity to bad actions, 266 

Unjust conclusions respecting character, 267 

Assigning bad motives unnecessarily, 267 

Ridicule and mimicry, 268 

Our duty to reveal the bad actions of others, 271 

Our duty to promote the ends of public justice, 271 

Our duty to protect the innocent, and for the good of the of- 
fender, 27] 

Duty of historians, 272 

Duty of the public press, 273 

OF VERACITY. 

CHAPTER FIRST. 

Veracity of the Past and Present, 276 

Law of veracity, 276 

What it forbids, 27G 

Necessity of such a law, 279 

CHAPTER SECOND. 

Veracity in Respect to the Future, . 282 

Of promises, 282 

Their intention and obligation, 282 

When promises are not binding, 283 

Of contracts, 235 

CHAPTER THIRD. 

Of Oaths, 233 

The theory of oaths, ^288 

Lawfulness of oaths, 290 

Interpretation of oaths, 2D1 

Different kinds of oaths, 291 



CLASS SECOND. 

Duties which arise from the Constitution of the Sexes,. 293 

CHAPTER FIRST. 

General Duty of Chastity, 295 

What this moral law forbids, 295 

What it commands, — exclusive union, 296 

union for life, 293 

Precepts of religion on this subject, 3(0 

2* 



18 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER SECOND. 

Page 

The Law of Marriage, 303 

Tlie nature of the contract, 303 

Duties imposed by the contract, 306 

Chastity, 306 

Mutual affection, 307 

Mutual assistance, 308 

Relation of parties as to authority, 309 

CHAPTER THIRD. 

The Law of Parents, 312 

Relation of the parties to each other, 312 

Duties of parents, 314 

Support or maintenance, 314 

Physical education, 315 

Intellectual education, 316 

Moral education, 318 

Rights of parents, 322 

Duration of these rights, 322 

Of instructors, 323 

CHAPTER FOURTH. 

The Law of Children, 324 

Duties of children, 324 

Obedience, 324 

Reverence, 326 

Filial affection , 326 

Necessary maintenance, 327 

Rights of children, : 327 

Duration of these rights and obligations, 327 

Duties of pupils, 327 



CLASS THIRD. 
Duties to Man, as a Member of Civil SociETy, 331 

CHAPTER FIRST. 
Or Civil Society, 332 

• SECTION I. 

Of a Simple Society, 332 

Nature of the contract, 332 

Manner in which governed, 334 

Limits of the power of a majority, 334 

Durability of corporations, 335 



CONTENTb. 19 



SECTION II. 

Page 

Of Civil Society, 337 

Civil society an institution of God,. 338 

Conclusions from the above, 340 

Of the nature and limitations of civil society, 'M2 

Of what is essential to civil society, 343 

The compact entered into by the individual and society, 344 

Of the accidental modifications of civil society, 348 

CHAPTER SECOND. 

Of the Mode in which the Objects of Society are Ac- 

co-MPLisHED, .. , ;^5l 

The parts of a government, , , . r 352 

What form of government is preferable, 354 

CHAPTER THIRD. 

Duties of the Officers of a Government, 336 

Of legislative officers, ;ir)5 

Of judicial officers, , . . . , 358 

Of executive officers, 359 

CHAPTER FOURTH 

Duties of Citizens, 3qI 

As individuals, 3gj 

As constituent members of society, 3Q2 

When the com.pact is violated, 354 



DIVISION SECOND. 

THE LAW OF BENEVOLENCE. 

CHAPTER FIRST 

General Obligation, and Division of the Subject, 3(i7 

Nature and proof of the obligation from our constitution, . . 367 

Proof from the Holy Scriptures, 359 

CHAPTER SECOND. 
Benevolence to the Unhappy, 374 

SECTION I. 

Unhappiness from ■phijsical condition, 3-- 1 

Objects of charity, o-j 

Laws affecting the recipient, 3^- 



20 CONTENTS. 

Page 

Laws affecting the benefactor, 376 

Poor laws, 377 

Voluntary associations, 378 

SECTION II. 
Unhajtpiness from intellectual condition, 380 

CHAPTER THIRD 
Benevolence to the Wicked, 384 

CHAPTER FOURTH. 

Benevolence TO the 1n,iurious, 387 

Injury committed by an individual against an individual, 387 

Injury committed by an individual against society, 389 

Injury committed by a society against a society, 390 

Of war, 390 



NOTE. 
Oulibs to Brutes, 395 



BOOK FIRST. 



THEORETICAL ETHICS. 



CHAPTER FIRST. 

OF THE ORIGIN OF OUR NOTION OF THE MORAL 
QUALITY OF ACTIONS. 

SECTION I. 

OF MORAL LAW. 

Ethics, or Moral Philosophy, is the * Science of Moral 
Law. 

The first question which presents itself is, What is moral 
law ? Let us then inquire, first, what is law ; and, secondly 
what is moral law. 

By the terni law, I think, we generally mean a form of 
expression, denoting either a mode of existence, or an order 
of sequence. 

Thus, the fii-st of Sir Isaac Newton's laws, namely, that 
every body will continue in a state of rest, or of uniform 
motion in a right line, unless compelled by some force to 
change its state, denotes a mode of existence. 

The third law of motion, that, to every action of one 
body upon another, there is an equal and contrary reaction, 
denotes an order of sequence ; that is, it declares the gen- 
eral fact, that, if one event occur, the constitution of things 
under which we exist, is such, that another event will also 
occur. 

The axioms in Mathematics are laws of the same kind. 



24 OF MORAL LAW. 

Thus, the axiom, " if equals be added to equals, the wholes 
will be equal," denotes an order of sequence, in respect to 
quantity. 

Of the same nature are the laws of Chemistry. Such, 
for instance, is the law that, if soda be saturated with muri- 
atic acid, the result will be common salt. 

Thus, also, in Intellectual Philosophy. If a picture of 
a visible object be formed upon the retina, and the impres- 
sion be communicated, by the nerves, to the brain, the 
result will be an act of perception. 

The meaning of law, when referring to civil society, is 
substantially the same. It expresses an established order 
of sequence between a specified action, and a particular 
mode of reward or of punishment. Such, in general, is the 
meaning of law, 

Moril Philosophy takes it for granted that there is in 
hum?.n actions amoral quality; that is, that a human action 
may be either right or wrong. Every one knows that we 
may contemplate the same action as wise or unwise ; as 
courteous or impolite ; as graceful or awkward ; and, also, 
as right or wrong. It can have escaped the observation of 
no one, that there are consequences distinct from each 
other, which follow an action, and which are connected, 
respectively, with each of its attributes. To take, for 
instance, a moral quality. Two men may both utter what 
is false ; the one intending to speak the tmth, the other 
intending to deceive. Now, some of the consequences of 
this act are common to both cases, namely, that the hearers 
may, in both cases, be deceived. But it is equally man- 
ifest, that there are also consequences peculiar to the case 
in which the speaker intended to deceive ; as, for example, 
the effects upon his own moral character, and upon the 
estima^on in which he is held by the community. And 
ill us, in general. Moral Philosophy proceeds upon the sup- 
position that there exists in the actions of men a moral 
quality, and that there are certain sequences connected by 
our Creator with the exhibition of that quality. 

A moral law is, therefore, a form of expression denoting 
an order of sequence established between the moral quality 
of actions, and their results. 



OF MORAL LAW. 25 

Moral Philosophy, or Ethics, is the science which classi- 
fies anu illustrates moral law. 

Here it may be worth while to remark, that an order of 
sequence established, supposes, of necessity, an Establisher. 
Hence Moral Philosophy, as well as every other science, 
proceeds upon the supposition of the existence of a 
universal cause, the Creator of all things, who has made 
every thing as it is, and who has subjected all things to the 
relations which they sustain. And hence, as all relations, 
whether moral or physical, are the result of His enactment, 
an order of sequence once discovered in morals, is just as 
invariable as an order of sequence in physics. 

Such being the fact, it is evident, that the moral laws of 
God can never be varied by the institutions of man, any 
more than the physical laws. The results which God has 
connected with actions, will inevitably occur, all the created 
power in the universe to the contrary notwithstanding. 
Nor can these consequences be eluded or averted, any 
more than the sequences which follow by the laws of grav- 
itation. What should we think of a man who expected to 
leap from a precipice, and, by some act of sagacity, elude 
the elFect of the accelerating power of gravity? or, of 
another, who, by the exercise of his own will, determined 
to render himself imponderable ? Every one who believes 
God to have established an order of sequences in morals, 
must see that it is equally absurd, to expect to violate, with 
impunity, any moral law of the Creator. 

Yet men have always flattered themselves with the hope 
that they could violate moral law, and escape the conse- 
quences which God has established. The reason is obvdous. 
In physics, the consequent follows the antecedent, often 
immediately, and most commonly after a stated and well 
known interval. In morals, the result is frequently long 
delayed ; and the time of its occurrence is always uncertain. 
Hence, " because sentence against an evil work is not exe- 
cuted speedily, therefore the hearts of the sons of men are 
fully set m them to do evil." But time, whether long or 
short, has neither power nox tcjidency to change the- order 
of an established sequence. The time required for vege- 
tation, in different orders of plants, may vary; but ye; 
3 



26 OF MORAL ACTION. 

wheat will always produce wheat, and an acorn will always 
produce an oak. That such is the case in morals, a heathen 
poet has taught us : 

Raro, antecedentem scelestum 
Deseruit, pede pcEna claudo. 

HoR. Lib. 3. Car. 2. 

A higher authority has admonished us, " Be not deceived ; 
God is not mocked ; whatsoever a man soweth, that shall 
he also reajpJ' It is also to be remembered, that, in morals 
as well as in physics, the harvest is always more abundant 
than the seed from which it springs. 



SECTION II. 



WHAT IS A MORAL ACTION? 



Action, from actum, the supine of the Latin verb ago, 
I do, signifies something done ; the putting forth of some 
power. 

But under what circumstances must power be put forth, 
in order to render it a moral action ? 

1. A machine is, in common conversation, said to be 
powerful. A vegetable is said to jput forth its leaves, a 
tree to bend its branches, or a vine to run towards a prop ; 
but we never speak of these instances of power, as actions. 

2. Action is never affirmed, but of beings possessed of a 
will; that is, of those in whom the putting forth of power 
is immediately consequent upon their determination to put 
it forth. Could we conceive of animate beings, whose 
exertiois had no connection with their will, we should not 
speak of such exertions as actions. 

3. Action, so far as we know, is affirmed only of bemgs 
possessed of intelligence ; that is, who are capable of com- 
prehen,ding a particular end, and of adopting the means 
necessary to accomplish it. An action is something done ; 
that is, some change effected. But man effects change, 



OF MORAL ACTION. 27 

only by means of stated antecedents. An action, there- 
fore, in such a being, supposes some change in view, and 
some means employed for the purpose of effecting it. 

We do not, however, affirm this as essential. Suppose 
a being so constituted as to be able to effect changes with- 
out the use of means ; action would then not involve the 
necessity of intelligence, in the sense in which it is here 
explained. All that would be necessaiy, would be the 
pre\dous conception of the change which he intended to 
effect. 

4. All this exists in man. He is voluntary and intelli- 
gent, capable of foreseeing the result of an exertion of 
power, and that exertion of power is subject to his will. 
This is sufficient to render man the subject of govern- 
ment. He can foresee the results of a particular action, and 
can will, or not will, to accomplish it. And other results 
can be connected Vvdth the action, of such a nature, as to 
influence his will in one direction or in another. Thus, a 
man may know that stabbing another will produce death. 
He has it in his power to will or not to will it. But such 
other consequences may be connected by society with the 
act, that, though on many accounts he would desire to do 
it, yet, on other and graver accounts, he would prefer 
not to do it. This is sufficient to render man a subject of 
government. But is this all that is necessary to constitute 
man a moral agent ; that is, to render him a subject of 
moral government ? 

May not all this be affirmed of brutes ? Are they not 
voluntar}^, and even, to some extent, intelligent agents ? 
Do they not, frequently, at least, comprehend the relation 
of means to an end, and voluntarily put forth the power 
necessary for the accomplishment of that end? Do they 
not manifestly design to injure us, and also select the most 
appropriate means for effecting their purpose ? And can 
we not connect such results with their actions, as shall 
influence theii' will, and prevent or excite the exercise of 
their power ? We do this, whenever we caress or intimi 
date them, to prevent them from injuring us, or to excite 
them to labor. They are, then, subjects of government, 
as tmly as man. 



28 OF MORAL ACTION. 

Is there, then, no difference between the intelligent and 
voluntary action of a brute, and the moral action of a 
man ? Suppose a brute and a man both to perform the 
same action ; as, for instance, suppose the brute to kill its 
offspring, and the man to murder his child. Are these 
actions of the same character ? Do we entertain the same 
feelings towards the authors of them ? Do we treat the 
authors in the same manner, and with the design of pro- 
ducing in them the same result ? 

I think no one can answer these questions in the afhr- 
mative. We pity the brute, but we are jUled with indig 
nation against the man. In the one case, we say there 
has been harm done ; in the other, injury committed. We 
feel that the man deserves punishment : we have no such 
feeling towards the brute. We say that the man has done 
mrong ; but we never affirm this of the brute. We may 
attempt to produce in the brute such a recollection of the 
offence, as may deter him from the act in future ; but we 
can do no more. We attempt, in the other case, to make die 
man sensible of the act as wrong, and to produce in him a 
radical change of character ; so that he not only would 
not commit the crime again, but would be inherently averse 
to the commission of it. 

These considerations are, I think, sufficient to render it 
evident, that we perceive an element in the actions of men, 
which does not exist in the actions of brutes. What is 
this element? 

If we should ask a child, he would tell us that the man 
knows better. This would be his mode of explaining it. 

But what is meant by knowing better? Did not the 
brute and the man both know that the result of their action 
would be harm ? Did not both intend that it should be 
haiTU ? In what respect, then, did the one know better 
tnan the other? 

I think that a plain man or a child would answer, the 
man knew that he ought not to do it, and that the brute 
did not know that he ought not to do it ; or he might say, 
the man knew, and the brute did not know, that it was 
wrong ; but whatever terms he might employ, they would 



OF MORAL ACTION. 29 

involve the same idea. I do not know that a philosopher 
coald give a more satisfactory answer. 

If the question, then, be asked, what is a moral action ? 
we may answer, it is the voluntary action of an intelligent 
agent, who is capable of distinguishing between right and 
wrong, or of distinguishing what he ought, fi-om what he 
ought not, to do. 

It is, however, to be remarked, that, although action is 
defined to be the putting forth of power, it is not intended 
to be asserted, that the moral quality exists only where 
power is actually exerted. It is manifest, that our thoughts 
and resolutions may be deserving either of praise or of 
blame ; that is, may be either right or wrong, where they 
do not agpear in action. When the will consents to the 
perfomiance of an action, though the act be not done, the 
omniscient Deity justly considers us as either virtuous or 
vicious. 

From what has been said, it may be seen that there 
exists, in the actions of men, an element which does not 
exist in the actions of brutes. Hence, though both are 
subjects of government, the government of the one should 
be constructed upon principles different from that of the 
other. We can operate upon brutes only by fear of pun- 
ishment, and hope of reward. We can operate upon man, 
not only in this manner ,*but, also, by an appeal to his con- 
sciousness of right and wrong ; and by the use of such 
means as may improve his moral nature. Hence, all 
modes of punishment which treat men as we treat brutes, 
are as unphilosophical as they are thoughtless, cruel and vin- 
dictive. Such are those systems of criminal jurisprudence, 
which have in view nothing more than the infliction of 
pain upon the offender. The leading object of all such 
systems should be to reclaim the vicious. Such was the 
result to which all the investigations of Howard led. Such 
is the improvement which Prison Discipline Societies aie 
laboring to effect. 

And it is worthy of remark, that the Christian precept 

respecting the treatment of injuries, proceeds precisely 

upon this principle. The New Testament teaches us to 

love our enemies, to do good to those that hate us, to over- 

3* 



30 IN WHAT PART OF AN ACTION DO WE 

come evil with good ; that is, to set before a man who does 
wrong, the strongest possible exemplification of the opposite 
moral quality, right. Now, it is manifest, that nothing 
would be so likely to show to an injurious person the tur- 
pitude of his own conduct, and to produce in him self- 
reproach and repentance, as precisely this sort of moral 
exhibition. Revenge and retaliation might, or might not, 
prevent a repetition of the injury to a particular individual. 
The requiting of evil with good, in addition to this effect, 
has an inherent tendency to produce sorrow for the act, 
and dislike to its moral quality ; and thus, by producing a 
change of character, to prevent the repetition of the offence 
under all circumstances hereafter. 



SECTION III. 



|M VYHAT PART OF AN ACTION DO WE DISCOVER ITS MORAL 
aUALITY? 

In a deliberate action, four distinct elements may be 
commonly observed. These are-^ 

1. The outward act, as when I put money into the hands 
of another. 

2. The conception of this act, of which the external 
performance is the mere bodying forth. 

3. The resolution to carry that conception into effect. 

4. The intention, or design, with which all this is done. 
Now, the moral quality does not belong to the external 

act ; for the same external act may be performed by two 
men, while its moral character is, in the two cases, entirely 
dissimilar. 

Nor does it belong to the conception of the external act, 
nor to the resolution to carry that conception into effect ; 
for the resolution to perform an action can have no other 
character than that of the action itself. It must, then, 
reside in the intention. 



31 

That such is the fact, may be illustrated bv an example. 
\ and B both give to C a piece of money. The) both 
conceived of this action before they perfoiTned it. They 
both resolved to do precisely what they did. In all this, 
both actions coincide. A, however, gave it to C, with 
the intention of procuring the murder of a friend ; B, with 
the intention of relieving a family in distress. It is evident 
that, in this case, the intention gives to the action its char- 
acter as right or wrong. 

That the moral quahty of the action resides in the inten- 
tion, may be evident from various other considerations. 

1. By reference to the intention, we inculpate or excul- 
pate others, or ourselves, without any respect to the hap- 
piness or misery actually produced. Let the result of an 
action be what it may, we hold a man guilty simply on the 
ground of intention, or, on the same ground, we hold him 
innocent. Thus, also, of ourselves. We are conscious of 
guilt or of innocence, not from the result of an action, but 
from the intention by which we were actuated. 

2. We always distinguish between being the instrument 
of good, and intending it. We are grateful to one who is 
the cause of good, not in the proportion of the amount 
effected, but of the amount intended. 

Intention may be wi^ong in various ways. 

As, for instance, first, where we intend to injure another, 
as in cmelty, mahce, revenge, deliberate slander. 

Here, however, it may be remarked, that we may intend 
to inflict pain, without intending wrong ; for we may be 
guilty of the violation of no right. Such is the case, when 
pain is inflicted for the purposes of justice ; for it is mani- 
fest, that, if a man deserve pain, it is no violation of right 
to inflict it. Hence we see the difference between harm, 
injury, and punishment. We harm another when we act- 
ually inflict pain ; we injure him when we inflict pain in 
violation of his rights ; we punish him when we inflict pain 
which he deserves, and to which he has been properiy 
adjudged — and, in so doing, there is, therefore, a violation 
of no right. 

2. Intention is \\Tong, where we act for the gratification 
of our own passions, without any respect to the happiness 



32 IN WHAT PART OF AN ACTION, ETC. 

of Others. Such is Jie case of seduction, ambition, and, in 
nations, commonly^ of war. Every man is bound to restrain 
the indulgence of his passions within such hmits, that they 
will work no ill to his neighbor. If they actually inflict 
injury, it is no excuse to say that he had no ill will to the 
individual injured. The Creator never conferred on him 
the right to destroy another's happiness for his own gratifi- 
cation. 

3. As the right and wrong of an action reside in the 
intention, it is evident, that, where an action is intended, 
though it be not actually performed, that intention is worthy 
of praise or blame, as truly as the action itself, provided the 
action itself be wholly out of our pow^r. Thus God re- 
warded David for intending to build the temple, though he 
did not permit him actually to build it. So, he who intends 
to murder another, though he may fail to execute his pur- 
pose, is, in the sight of God, a murderer. The meditation 
upon wickedness with pleasure, comes under the same con- 
demnation. 

4. As the right or wrong exists in the intention, wherever 
a particular intention is essential to virtuous action, the 
performance of the external act, without that intention, is 
destitute of the element of virtue. Thus, a child is bound 
to obey his parents, with the intention of thus manifesting 
his love and gratitude. If he do it from fear, or from hope 
of gain, the act is destitute of the virtue of filial obedience, 
and becomes merely the result of passion or self-interest. 
And thus our Savior charges upon the Jews the want of 
the proper intention, in all their dealings with God. ^" [ 
know you," said he, " that ye have not the love of God in 
you." 

And. again, it is manifest, that our moral feelings, like 
our taste, may be excited by the conceptions of our own 
imagination, scarcely less than by the reality. These, 
therefore, may develop moral character. He who medi- 
tates, with pleasure, upon fictions of pollution and crime, 
whether originating with himself or with others, renders it 
evident that nothing but opposing circumstances prevents 
him from being himself an actor in the crime which he 
loves. And still more, as the moral character of an action 



WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION, ETC. 33 

resides in the intention, and as whatever tends to corrupt 
the intention must be wrong, the meditating with pleasure 
upon vice, which has manifestly this tendency, must be 
wrong also. 

And here let me add, that the imagination of man is the 
fi-uitflil parent both of viitue and vice. Thus saith the 
wise man, " Keep thy heart with all diligence, for out of it 
are the issues of life." No man becomes openly a villain, 
until his imagination has become familiar with conceptions 
of villany. The crimes which astonish us by their atrocity, 
were first arranged, and acted, and reacted, in the recesses 
of the criminal's own mind. Let the imagination, then, be 
most carefully guarded, if we wish to escape fi'om tempta- 
tion, and make progress in virtue. Let no one flatter him- 
self that he is innocent, if he love to meditate upon any 
thing which he would blush to avow before men, or fear to 
unveil before God. 



SECTION IV, 



WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION OF THE MORAL QUALITY 
OF ACTIONS? 

To this question several answers have been given. 
Some of them we shall proceed to consider. 

1 . Is our notion of right and wrong a modification of any 
other idea ? 

The only modifications of which an idea is susceptible, 
are, fii'st, that of greater or less vividness of impression, or, 
secondly, that of simplicity or of composition. Thus, the 
quality of beauty may impress us more or less forcibly, in 
the contemplation of different objects ; or, on the other 
hand, the idea of beauty may be simple, or else combined, 
in our conceptions, with the idea of utility. 

Now, if our notion of right and wrong be a modification 
of some other idea, in the first sense, then one degree of 



34 WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION OF 

the original quality will be destitute of any moral element, 
and another degree of it will possess a moral element ; and^ 
by ascending higher in the scale, it may at last lose all its 
original character, and possess another, having no remains 
of resemblance to itself. This would be to say, that a 
quality, by becoming more intense, ceased to be itself; as if 
a triangle, by becoming more perfect as a triangle, at last 
became a square. Thus, if it be said, that the idea of right 
and wrong is a modification of the idea of beauty, then 
the same object, if beautiful in one degree, would have no 
moral quality ; if beautiful in another degree, would begin 
to be virtuous ; and, if beautiful in the highest degree, 
would cease to be beautiful, and be purely virtuous or holy. 
What meaning could be attached to such an affirmation, I 
am not able to discover. 

The other meaning of a modification of an idea, is, that 
it is compounded with some other idea. Now, suppose our 
notion of right and wrong to be a modification in this latter 
sense. Then this notion either enters into the original ele- 
ments of the compound idea, or it does not. If it does, 
then it is already present ; and this supposition does not 
account for its existence. If it does not enter into the ele- 
ments of the compound idea, then these elements must exist 
either merely combined, but each possessing its original 
character, in which combination the moral idea is not in- 
volved ; or else they must lose their original character, and 
be merely the stated antecedents to another idea, which is 
an idea like neither of them, either separately or combined. 
In this latter case, it is manifest, that the consequent of an 
antecedent is no modification of the antecedent, but an 
entirely different subject, coming into existence under these 
particular circumstances, and in obedience to the laws of 
its own organization. Do we ever term a salt a modifica- 
tion of an acid, or of an alkali, or of an acid and alkah 
united ? Is the explosive power of gunpowder a modifica- 
tion of the spark and the gunpowder ? We think, then, it 
may be safely concluded, that the notion of right and wrong 
is not a modification of any odier idea. 

If any one assert, that this idea universally ensues upon the 
f'ombination of two other ideas, it will Ix come him to show 



THE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS "^ 35 

what those two ideas are, neither of which involves the 
notion of right and wrong, but upon the combination of 
which, this notion always arises, while the original elements 
which precede it, entirely disappear. 

2. Is our notion of the moral quality of actions derived 
from an exercise of the judgment ? 

Judgment is that act of the mind, by which, a subject 
and a predicate being known, we affirm, that the predicate 
belongs to the subject. Thus, he who knows what grass 
is, and what green is, may affirm that grass is green. But 
in this act of the mind, the notion of the two things of 
which the affirmation is made, must exist before the act of 
judgment can be exerted. A man who had no notion 
either of grass, or of green, could never affirm the one of 
the other. And so of any other instance of this act. A 
man who had no notion of right or of wrong, could never 
affirm -either quality of any subject ; much less could he, by 
this faculty, acquire the original idea. And thus, in gene- 
ral, the judgment only affirms a relation to exist between 
two notions which previously existed in the mind ; but it 
can give us no original notions of quality, either in morals 
or in any thing else. 

3. Is our notion of the moral quality of actions derived 
from association ? 

The term association is used to designate two habits of 
mind considerably alike. The first is that, by which the 
sight or recollection of one object calls to recollection some 
other object, to which it stands in some particular relation. 
Thus, the sight of a hearse may recall to recollection the 
death of a friend ; or the sound of his native language, in 
a foreign country, may awaken in the breast of an exile all 
the recollections of home. The second case is, where a 
particular emotion, belonging to one train of circumstances, 
is awakened by another, with which it has no necessary 
connection ; and this first emotion comes at last to be 
awakened by the accidental, instead of by the necessary, 
antecedent. Thus, the countenance of a person may be 
suited to awaken no emotion of pleasure in itself; but, if 
I become acquainted with him, and am pleased with his 
moral and intellectual character, a degi-ee of pleasure is, at 



36 WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOlloN 

fast, excited by his countenance, which, in the end, appeal's 
\o me agreeable, or, it may be, beautiflil. 

Now, in both these cases, it is evident that no new idea 
IS gained. In the one case, a well known idea is revived ; 
in the other, two known ideas are connected in a new re- 
lation ; but this is all. Association is the faculty by which 
we transfer; but we can transfer nothing which did not 
previously exist. We could never use the idea of right and 
wrong by association, unless we had already acquired it. 
In the acts of judgment and association, therefore, as the 
existence of the notion must be presupposed, neither of these 
acts will account for the origin of the notion itself. 

4. Is our notion of the moral quality of actions derived 
from the idea of the greatest amount of happiness ? 

Thus, it is said, that our notion of right and wrong is 
derived from our idea of productiveness of happiness, or, in 
other words, that an action is right or wrong because it is pro- 
ductive or not productive of the greatest amount of happiness 

When the affinxiative of this question is asserted, it is, 1 
presume, taken for granted, that the idea of right and 
wrong, and of productiveness of the greatest amount of hap- 
piness, are two distinct ideas. If they be not, then one 
cannot be derived from the other ; for nothing can correctly 
be said to be a cause of itself. We shall, therefore, con- 
sider them as different ideas, and inquire, in what sense it is 
true that the one is the cause of the other. 

When we speak of two events in nature, of which one 
IS the cause of the other, we use the word cause in one of 
the two following senses. Fii-st, we use it to denote stated 
antecedency merely ; as when we say that sensation is the 
cau^e of perception, or, that a man perceives an external 
object, because an impression is made upon an organ of 
sense. Secondly, we use it to signify that the event or 
change of which we speak may be referred to some law or 
fact, more general than itself. We say, in other words, 
that the fact in question is a species under some genus, with 
which it agrees as to generic qualities ; and from which it is 
distinguished by its specific differences. Thus, when asked 
why a stone falls to the earth, we reply, because all matter is 
reciprocally attractive to all other matter. This is the generic 



OF THE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS ? 37 

fact, under which the fact in question is to be comprehended ; 
and its specific difference is, that it is a particular foiTn of 
matter, attracted by a particular iorm of matter, and prob- 
al^ly unlike the matter of the planets, the comets, or the sun. 
First. When it is said that an action is right, Iccaiise it 
is productive of the greatest amount of happiness, suppose 
because to be used in the first of these senses. It will then 
mean, that we are so constituted, that tlie idea of the great- 
est amount of happiness is always the stated antecedent to 
the idea of right, or moral obligation. Now, this is a ques- 
tion purely of fact. It does not admit of a reason a priori. 
And, if it be the fact, it must be the universal fact ; that is 
to say, this consequent must always, under similar con- 
ditions, be preceded by this antecedent, and this antecedent 
be followed by this consequent. 

1. To facts, then, let us appeal. Is it a fact, that we 
are conscious of the existence of this connection ? When 
we are conscious that an act is right, is this consciousness 
preceded by a conviction that this action will be productive 
of the greatest amount of happiness ? When we say it is 
wi'ong to lie or to steal, do we find this consciousness pre- 
ceded by the notion, that lying or stealing will not produce 
the greatest amount of happiness ? When we say that a 
murderer deserves death, do we find this notion preceded 
by the other ^ that murder wiU not produce the greatest 
amount of happiness, and that putting a murderer to death 
will produce it ? When we say that a man ought to obey 
God, his Creator and Preserver, do we find this con\action 
preceded by the other — that the exercise of this affection 
will produce the greatest amount of happiness ? Now, 1 
may have greatly mistaken the nature of moral affections ; 
but I am much deceived if many persons will not be found, 
who will declare, that, often as they have foimed these 
iudgments, the idea of the greatest amount of happiness 
never actually entered into then- conception. 

2. Or, take the case of children. When you would im- 
press upon a child the duty of obeying its parents, or of 
loving God, do you begin by explaining to it the idea of 
the greatest amount of happiness? Are we obliged to 
make use of this antecedent, in order to produce this cun- 

4 



38 WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION 

sequent ? If so, it surely would take a much longer time 
than is actually required, to produce in a child any moral 
sensibility. Do we not find children, well instructed into the 
consciousness of right and wrong, who could not be made to 
comprehend the notion of the greatest amount of happiness ? 

3. How do we attempt to arouse the consciences of the 
heathenl When we tell them that they ought to obey 
God, and believe on Jesus Christ, do we begin by explain- 
ing to them that this course of life will produce the greatest 
amount of happiness? Suppose we could never arouse 
them to duty, until we had produced a conviction of the 
amount of happiness which would result to the universe 
fi'om piety, would a single one of them ever listen to us 
long enough to understand our doctrine ? 

4. Does the Bible any where assert, that the conviction 
of the greatest amount of happiness is necessary to the 
existence of moral obligation ? If I mistake not, it presents 
a very different view of the subject. It declares that the 
heathen are without excuse. But why ? Because disobe- 
dience to God interferes with the greatest amount of hap- 
piness ? No, but for a very different reason : " Because 
that which may he 'known of God is manifest in them, for 
God hath showed it unto them ; so that they are without 
excuse." Rom. i. 19, 20. St. Paul here seems to assume, 
that the revelation of God's eternal power and divinity, and 
the manifestation of his will, are sufficient, of themselves, 
without any other consideration, to make whatever he shall 
command obligatory upon his creatures. 

It seems, then, to me, by no means proved, that an ac- 
tion is right because it is productive of the greatest amount 
of happiness ; if we mean by it that, in our conceptions, the 
one 'dea is the stated antecedent to the other. 

Secondly. But let us take the other meaning of because. 
Suppose it said, that the idea of moral obligation is an 
idea comprehended under, and to be referred to, a more 
general idea, namely, that of the productiveness of the 
greatest amount of happiness. Now, if this be the case, 
then, manifestly, either the notion of the greatest amount of 
happiness, and the notion of right, must be equally exten- 
sive *. that is, must extend precisely to the same number 



39 

of individual instances : or else their extent must be differ- 
ent ; that iS; the generic notion of the greatest amount oi 
happiness must comprehend cases which are excluded from 
its species, the idea of right. If the latter be the case, then, 
there will be some cases in which an action would produce 
the greatest amount of happiness, which would not contain 
the moral element ; and, besides, if this were the case, it 
would become those who make this assertion, to show what 
is that other element, which, combining with the idea of 
the greatest amount of happiness, designates the subordinate 
and different idea, as the idea of moral obligation. This, 
however, would not be attempted, and it will be at once 
admitted, that these two ideas are, in their nature, coexten- 
sive ; that is, that whatever is productive of the greatest 
amount of happiness, is right, and whatever is right, is pro- 
ductive of the greatest amount of happiness. 

Let us suppose it then to be assumed, that the terms are 
precisely coextensive, viz., that they apply exactly to the 
same actions and in the same degrees. It would then be 
difficult to assioTi a meanino; to the word because, corre- 
sponding to either of the senses above stated. Nor, if two 
tenns are precisely coextensive, do I see how it is possible 
to discover which of the tsvo is to be referred to the othf r ; 
or, whether either is to be refeiTed to either. If A and B 
are equally extensive, I do not see how we can detemiine 
whether A is to be referred to B, or B to be refeiTed to A. 

The only other meaning which I can conceive as capa- 
ble of being attached to the assertion, is this ; that we are 
not under moral obligation to perform any action, unless it 
be productive of the greatest amount of happiness ; thus 
making moral obligation rest upon this other idea, tJat of 
the greatest amount of happiness. 

Now, if this be asserted, it is, surely, from what has been 
said above, not self-evident ; for we manifestly do not, 
instinctively and universally, as soon as this connection is 
asserted, yield our assent to it, nor is it absurd to deny it ; 
and, therefore, the assertion is capable of proof, and we 
may justly demand the proof before we believe it. Let us, 
then, examine the proof on which it rests. 

It is, however, to be remarked, that, if the assertion be 



40 WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION 

tiTie. that we are under obligation to perfomi an action only 
on the ground that it is productive of the greatest good, the 
assertion must be tine in its widest sense. It must apply 
to actions affecting our relations, not only to man, but also 
to God ; for these are equally comprehended within the 
notion of moral obligation. And thus, the assertion is, that 
we are not under obligation to perfonn any action whatever^ 
under any circumstances, unless it be productive of the 
greatest amount of happiness. 

1. It is said, that these two always coincide; that is, 
that we always are under obligation to do whatever is pro- 
ductive of the greatest amount of happiness ; and that, 
whatever we are under obligation to do, is productive of the 
greatest amount of happiness. Now, granting the premises, 
I do not see that the conclusion would follow. It is possi- 
ble to conceive, that God may have created moral agents 
under obligations to certain courses of conduct, and have 
so arranged the system of the universe, that the ' following 
of these courses shall be for the best, without making our 
obligation to rest at all upon their tendency to produce the 
gi'eatest amount of happiness. 

A parent may require a child to do that which will be 
for the good of the family ; and yet there may be other rea- 
sons besides this, which render it the duty of the child to 
obey his parent. 

2. But, secondly, how do we know that these premises 
are true — that whatever we are under obligation to do, is 
productive of the greatest amount of happiness ? It never 
can be known, unless we know the whole history of thi?; 
univei*se from everlasting to everlasting. And, besides, we 
know that God always acts right, that is, deals with all 
beings according to their deserts ; but whether he always 
acts simply to promote the greatest happiness, I do not know 
that he has told us. His government could not be more 
'perfectly right than it is ; but whether it could have in- 
volved less miseiy, or have produced more happiness, I do 
not know that we have the means of ascertaining. As, 
therefore, the one quantity, so to speak, is fixed, that is, is 
as great as it can be, while we do not certainly know that 
the other is as great as it can be we cannot affinn thai 



OF THE 3I0RAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS? ' '11 

right and the gi-eatest amount of happiness always coincide; 
lor, that we are under obhgation to do nothing, unless it 
would tend to produce the greatest amount of happiness. 

3. Besides, suppose we are under no obligation to do 
any thing unless it were productive of the greatest amount 
of happiness, it would follow that we are under no obliga- 
tion to obey God, unless the production of the greatest 
amount of happiness were the controlling and universal 
principle of his government. That is, if his object, in 
creating and governing the universe, were any other, or, if 
it were doubtful whether it might not be any other, our 
obligation to obedience would either be annihilated, or 
would be contingent ; that is, it would be inversely as the 
degree of doubt which might exist. Now, as I have be- 
fore remarked, this may, or may not, be the ultimate end 
of God's government ; it may be his own pleasure, or his 
own gloiy, or some other end, which he has not seen fit to 
reveal to us ; and, therefore, on the principle which we 
are discussino;, our obligation to obedience seems a matter 
yet open for discussion. Now, if I mistake not, this is 
wholly at variance with the whole tenor of Scripture and 
reason. I do not know that the Scriptures ever give us a 
reason why we ought to obey God, aside from his existence 
and attributes, or that they ever put this subject in a light 
susceptible of a question. 

To this view of the subject, the following remarks of 
Bishop Butler manifestly tend : " Perhaps divine goodness, 
with which, if' I mistake not, we make very free in our 
speculations, may not be a bare single disposition to produce 
/lappiness ; but a disposition to make the good, the faithful, 
the honest man happy. Perhaps an infinitely perfect 
mind may be pleased with seeing his creatures behave suit- 
ably with the natui« which he has given them, to the rela- 
tions in which he has placed them to each other, and to 
that in which they stand to himself; that relation to himself, 
which during their existence is ever necessaiy, and which 
is the most important one of all. I say, an infinitely perfect 
mind may be pleased with this moral piety of moral agents 
171 and for^ itself, as well as upon account of its being 
essentially conducive to the happiness of his creation. Or 
4* 



42 WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION 

the whole end for which God made and thus governs the 
world, may be utterly beyond the reach of our faculties : 
there may be somewhat in it, as impossible for us to have 
any conception of, as for a blind man to have a conception 
of colors." Analogy, part 1, ch. 2. 

Again. " Some men seem to think the only character 
of the Author of nature, to be that of single, absolute 
benevolence. This, considered as a principle of action, 
and infinite in degree, is a disposition to produce the great- 
est possible happiness, without regard to persons' behavior, 
otherwise than as such regard would produce the highest 
degrees of it. And, supposing this to be the only charac 
ter of God, veracity and justice in him would be nothing 
but benevolence, conducted by wisdom. Now, surely this 
ought not to be asserted, unless it can be proved ; for we 
should speak with cautious reverence upon such a subject. 
There may possibly be, in the creation, beings, to whom 
the Author of nature manifests himself under this most 
amiable of all characters, this of infinite, absolute benevo- 
lence ; for it is the most amiable, supposing it is not, as 
perhaps it is not, incompatible with justice ; but he mani- 
fests himself to us under the character of a Righteous Gov- 
ernor. He may, consistently with this, be simply and abso- 
lutely benevolent, in the sense now explained ; but he is, 
for he has given us a proof, in the constitution and govern- 
ment of the world, that he is, a Governor over servants, as he 
rewards and punishes us for our actions." Analogy, ch. 3. 

" Nay, farther, were treachery, violence, and injustice, no 
otherwise vicious, than as foreseen likely to produce an 
overbalance of misery to society, then, if a man could pro- 
cure to himself as great advantage by an act of injustice, 
as the whole foreseen inconvenience likely to be brought 
upon others by it would amount to, such a piece of injus- 
tice would not be faulty or vicious at all ; because it would 
be no more than, in any other case, for a man to prefer his 
own satisfaction to another's in equal degrees. The fact 
then appears to be, that we are constituted so as to con- 
demn falsehood, unprovoked violence, injustice, and to 
approve of benevolence to some in preference to others, 
abstracted Irom all consideration which conduct is likeliest 



OF THE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS ? 43 

to produce an overbalance of happiness or misery. And, 
therefore, were the Author of nature to propose nothing to 
himself as an end, but the production of happiness, were 
his moral character merely that of Benevolence, yet ours 
is not so. Upon that supposition, indeed, the only reason 
of his giving us the above-mentioned approbation of benev- 
olence to some persons, rather than others, and disapproba- 
tion of falsehood, unprovoked violence, and injustice, must 
be that he foresaw this constitution of our nature would 
produce more happiness, than forming us with a temper 
of mere general benevolence. But still, since this is our 
constitution, falsehood, violence, injustice, must be vice in 
us, and benevolence to some, preferably to others, must be 
virtue, abstracted jfrom all consideration of the overbalance 
of evil or good which they appear likely to produce. 

" Now, if human creatures are endued with such a moral 
nature as we have been explaining, or with a moral faculty, 
the nature of which is action, moral government must con- 
sist in rendering them happy or unhappy, in rewarding or 
punishing them, as they follow, neglect, or depart from, the 
moral rule of action, intersvoven in their nature, or sug- 
gested and enforced by this moral faculty, in rewarding or 
punishiing them on account of their so doing." Second 
Dissertation on Virtue. 

For these reasons, I think it is not proved that an action 
Is right because it is productive of the greatest amount of 
happiness. It may be so, or it may not, but we ought not 
to believe it to be so without proof; and it may even be 
doubted whether we are in possession of the media of 
proof, that is, whether it is a question fairly within the 
reach of the human faculties ; and, so far as we can learn 
from the Scriptures, I think their testimony is decidedly 
against the supposition. To me, the Scriptures seem ex- 
plicitly to declare, that the will of our God alone is suffi- 
cient to create the obhgation to obedience in all his crea- 
tures ; and that this will, of itself, precludes every other 
inquiry. This seems to be the view of St. Paul, in the 
passage which we have quoted, as well as in several other 
places, in his Epistle to the Romans. To the same import 
13 the prayer of our Savior, " I thank thee, O Father, Lord 



44 WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION 

of heaven and earth, because thou hast hid these things 
from the wise and pmdent, and hast revealed them unto 
babes ; even so, Faiher, for so it seemed good in thy 
sight.'' 

It seems, therefore, to me, that these explanations of 
the origin of our moral sentiments are unsatisfactory. I 
believe the idea of a moral quality in actions to be ultimate, 
to arise under such circumstances as have been appointed 
by our Creator, and that we can assign for it no other 
reason, than that such is his will concerning us. 

If this be true, our only business will be, to state the 
circumstances under which our moral notions arise. In 
doing this, it would be presumption in me to expect that 1 
shall be able to give an account of this subject more satis- 
factory to others, than theirs has been to me. I mxcrely 
offer it as that which seems to me most accurately to cor 
respond with the phenomena. 

The view which I take of this subject is briefly as 
follows : 

1. It is manifest to every one, that we all stand in vari- 
ous and dissimilar relations to all the sentient beings, 
created and uncreated, with which we are acquainted. 
Among our relations to created beings are those of man to 
man, or that of substantial equality, of parent and child, 
of benefactor and recipient, of husband and wife, of brother 
and brother, citizen and citizen, citizen and magistrate, and 
a thousand others. 

2. Now, it seems to me, that, as soon as a human being 
comprehends the relation in which two human beings stand 
to each other, there arises in his mind a consciousness of 
moral obligation, connected, by our Creator, with the very 
conception of this relation. And the fact is the same, 
whether he be one of the parties or not. The nature of 
this feeling is, that the one ought to exercise certain dis- 
positions towards the others to whom he is thus related ; 
and to act towards them in a manner corresponding with 
those dispositions. 

3. The nature of these dispositions varies, of course, 
with the relations. Thus, those of a parent to a child are 
different from those of a child to a parent ; those of a 



OF TPIE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS ? 45 

benefactor to a recipient, fi'om those of a recipient to a 
benefactor : and both of tliem difter from that of a brother 
to a brother, or of a master to a servant. But, different as 
these may be from each other, they are all pervaded by 
the same generic feeling, that of moral ohligation ; that is, 
ive feel that lue ought to be thus or thus disposed, and to 
act in this or that manner. 

4. This T suppose to be our constitution, in regard to 
created beings ; and such do I suppose would be our feel- 
mg, ui'espectively of any notion of the Deity. That is, 
upon the conception of these and such like relations, there 
would immediately arise this feeling of moral obligation, to 
act towards those sustaining these relations, in a particular 
manner. 

5. But there is an Uncreated Being, to whom we stand 
in relations infinitely more intimate and inconceivably more 
solemn, than any of those of which we have spoken. It 
is that Infinite Being, icho stands to us in the relation of 
Creator, Preserver, Benefactor, Lawgiver, and Judge ; and 
to whom we stand in the relation of dependent, help- 
less, ignorant, and sinflil creatures. How much this rela- 
tion involves, we cannot possibly know; but so much as 
this we know, that it involves obligations greater than our 
intellect can estimate. We cannot contemplate it without- 
feeling that, jfrom the very fact of its existence, we are 
under obligations to entertain the disposition of filial love 
and obedience towards God, and to act precisely as he 
shall condescend to direct. And this obligation arises 
simply from the fact of the relation existing between the 
parties, and irrespectively of any other consideration ; and 
if it be not felt, when the relations are perceived, it can 
never be produced by any view of the consequences which 
would arise to the universe from exercisinsi; it. 

6. This relation, and its consequent obligation, involve, 
comprehend, and transcend every other. Hence it places 
obligation to man upon a new foundation. For if we be 
ourselves thus under illimitable obligations to God, and if, 
by virtue of the relation which he sustains to the creation, 
he is the Protector, Ruler, and Proprietor of dU, we are 
under obligations to obey him in eveiy thing. And as 



46 WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION 

every other being is also his creature, we are bound to treat 
that creature as he its Propnetor shall direct. Hence we 
are bound to perfomi the obligation under which we stand 
to his creatures, not merely on account of our relations to 
them, but also on account of the relations in which we 
and they stand to God. 

And hence, in general, our feeling of moral obligation is 
a peculiar and instinctive impulse, arising at once by the 
principles of our constitution, as soon as the relations are 
perceived in which we stand to the beings, created and 
uncreated, with whom we are connected. 

The proof of this must rest, as I am aware, with every 
man's consciousness. A fev/ illustrative remarks may, 
however, not be altogether useless. 

I think, if we reflect upon the subject, that the manner 
in which we attempt to awaken moral feelings, confirms 
the view which I have taken. In such a case, if I mistake 
not, lue always place before the mind the relation in which 
the parties stand to each other. 

1. If we wish to awaken in ourselves gratitude to another, 
we do not reflect that this affection will produce the great- 
est good ; but we remember the individual in the relation 
of benefactor ; and we place this relation in the strongest 
possible light. If this will not produce gratitude, our effort, 
of necessity, fails. 

2. If we desire to inflame moral indignation against 
crime, we show the relations in which the parties stand to 
each other, and expect hence to produce a conviction of 
the greatness of the obligation which such turpitude vio- 
lates. 

3. So, if we wish to overcome evil with good, we place 
ourselves in the relation of benefactor to the injurious per- 
son ; and, in spite of himself, he is frequently compelled to 
yield to the law of his nature ; and gratitude for favors, and 
sori'ow for injury, spontaneously arise in his bosom. 

4. And, in the plan of man's redemption, it seems to me 
that the Deity has acted on this principle. Irrespectively 
of a remedial dispensation, he is known to us only as a 
Creator, all wise and all powerful, perfect in holiness, jus- 
lice, and truth. To our fallen nature, these attributes could 



OF THE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS ? 47 

minister nothing but teiTor. He, therefore, has revealed 
himself to us in the relation of a Savior and Redeemer, a 
God forgiving transgression and iniquity ; and thus, by all 
the power of this new relation, he imposes upon us new 
obligations to gratitude, repentance, and love. 

5. And hence it is, that God always asserts, that as, from 
the fact of this new relation, our obligations to him are in- 
creased ; so, he who rejects the gospel is, in a special man- 
ner, a sinner, and is exposed to a more tenible condemnation. 
The climax of all that is awful in the doom of the unbe- 
lieving, is expressed by the terms, " the wrath of the 
Lamb." 

Again. I am not much accustomed to such refined 
speculations ; but I think that obedience or love to God, 
from any more ultimate motive, than that this affection is 
due to him because he is God, and our God, is not piety. 
Thus, if a child say, I will obey my father, because it is 
for the happiness of the family ; what the character of this 
action would be, I am not prepared to say ; but I think 
the action would not be Jilial obedierwe^. Filial obedience 
is the obeying of another, because he is my father ; and it 
is FILIAL obedience, only in so far as it proceeds fi-om this 
motive. This will be evident, if we substitute for the love 
of the happiness of the family, the love of money, or some 
other such motive. Every one sees, that it would net be 
Jilial obedience, for a child to obey his parent because he 
would be well paid for it. 

Now, it seems to me, that the same principle applies in 
the other case. To feel under obligation to love God, 
because this affection would be productive of the greatest 
good, and not on account of what he is, and of the relations 
in which he stands to us, seems to me not to be jpiety ; that 
is, not to be the feeling, which a creature is bound to exer- 
cise towards his Creator. If the obligation to the love of 
God ran really arise from any thing more ultimate than the 
essential relation which he sustains to us, why may not this 
more ultimate motive be something else, as well as the love 
of the greatest good ? I do not say that any thing else 
would be as benevolent ; but I speak metaphysically, and 
say, that, if real piety, or love to God, may tmly spring 



48 WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION, ETC. 

from any thing more ultimate than God himself, I do noi 
see why it may not spring from one thing as well as from 
another; and thus, true piety might spring from various 
and dissimilar motives, no one of which has any real refer- 
ence to God himself. 

My view of this subject, in few words, is as follows: 

1. We stand in relations to the several beings with which 
we are connected, such, that some of them, as soon as they 
are conceived, suggest to us the idea of moral obligation. 

2. Our relations to our fellow-men suggest this convic- 
tion, in a limited and restricted sense, corresponding to the 
idea of general or essential equality. 

3. The relation in which we stand to the Deity suggests 
the conviction of universal and unlimited love and obedience. 
This binds us to proper dispositions towards Him; and, 
also, to such dispositions towards his creatures, as he shall 
appoint. 

4. Hence, our duties to man are enforced by a twofold 
obligation ; first, because of our relations to man as man ; 
and, secondly, because of our relation to man as being, with 
ourselves, a creature of God. 

5. And hence an act, which is performed in obedience to 
our obligations to man, may be virtuous ; but it is not pious, 
unless it also be perfoniied in obedience to our obligations 
to God. 

6. And hence we see that two things are necessary, in 
order to constitute any being a moral agent. They are, 
first, that he possess an intellectual power, by which he can 
undei-stand the relation in which he stands to the beings by 
whom he is surrounded ; secondly, that he possess a moral 
power, by which the feeling of obligation is suggested to 
him, as soon as the relation in w^iich he stands is under- 
stood. This is sufficient to render him a moral agent. He 
is accountable, just in proportion to the opportunity which 
he has enjoyed, for acquiring a knowledge of the relations 
in which he stands, and of tlie manner in which his obliga- 
»ions are to be discharired. 



49 



CHAPTER SECOND. 

CONSCIENCE, OR THE MORAL SENSE. 
SECTION 1. 

IS THERE A CONSCIENCE ? 

-By conscience, or the moral sense, is meant, that facility 
by which we discern the moral quality of actions, and by 
which we are capable of certain affections in respect to this 
quality. 

By faculty, is meant any particular part of our constitu- 
tion, by which we become affected by the various qualities 
and relations of beings around us. Thus, by taste, we are 
conscious of the existence of beauty and deformity; by 
perception, we acquire a knowledge of the existence and 
qualities of the material world. And, in general, if we 
discern any quality in the universe, or produce or suffer any 
change, it seems almost a truism to say, that we have a 
faculty, or power, for so doing. A man who sees, must 
have eyes, or the faculty for seeing ; and if he have not 
eyes, this is considered a sufficient reason why he should 
not see. And thus, it is universally admitted, that there 
may be a thousand quahties in nature, of which we have 
no knowledge, for the simple reason, that we have not been 
created with the faculties for discerning them. There is a 
world without us, and a world within us, which exactly 
correspond to each other. Unless hoth exist, we can never 
be conscious of the existence of either. 

Now, that we do actually observe a moral quality in the 

actions of men, must, I think, be admitted. Every human 

being is conscious, that, from childhood, he has observed it. 

We do not say, that all men discern this quality with 

5 



60 IS THERE A CONSCIENCE ? 

equal accuracy, any more than that they all see with equal 
distinctness : but we say, that all men perceive it in some 
actions ; and that there is a multitude of cases in which 
their perceptions of it will be found universally to agree. 
And, moreover, this quality, and the feeling which accom- 
panies the perception of it, are unlike those derived from 
every other faculty. 

The question would then seem reduced to this, Do we 
perceive this quality of actions by a single faculty, or by a 
combination of faculties ? I think it must be evident, from 
what has been already stated, that this notion is, in its 
nature, simple and ultimate, and distinct from every other 
notion. Now, if this be the case, it seems self-evident, that 
we, must have a distinct and separate faculty, to make us 
acquainted with the existence of this distinct and separate 
quality. This is the case in respect to all other distinct 
qualities : it is, surely, reasonable to suppose, that it would 
be the case with this, unless some reason can be shown to 
the contrary. 

But, after all, this question is, to the moral philosopher, 
of but comparatively little importance. All that is necessa- 
ry to his investigations is, that it be admitted that there is 
such a quality, and that men are so constituted as to per- 
ceive it, and to be susceptible of certain affections, in con- 
sequence of that perception. Whether these facts are 
accounted for, on the supposition of the existence of a 
single faculty, or of a combination of faculties, will not 
affect the question of moral obligation. All that is neces- 
sary to the prosecution of the science is, that it be admitted 
that there is such a quality in actions, and that man is 
3ndowed with a constitution capable of bringing him mto 
relation to it. 

It may, however, be worth while to consider some of the 
objections which have been urged against the supposition 
of the existence of such a faculty. 

I. It has been said, if such a faculty has been bestowed, 
it must have been bestowed universally : but it is not be- 
stowed universally ; for, what some nations consider right, 
other nations consider wrong, as infanticide, parricide, 
duelling, StG. 



IS THERE A CONSCIENCE ? 51 

1 . To this it may be answered, fct, the objection seems 
to admit the universahty of the existence of conscience, 
or the power of discerning in certain actions a moral quality. 
It admits that, every where, men make this distinction ; 
but affirms, that, in different countries, they refer the quality 
to different actions. Now, how this difference is to be 
accounted for, may be a question ; but the fact, as stated 
in the objection, shows the universality of the power of 
observing such a quality in actions. 

2. But, secondly, we have said that we discover the 
moral quality of actions in the intention. Now, it is not the 
fact, that this difference exists, as stated in the objection, if 
the intention of actions be considered. Where was it not 
considered right to intend the happiness of parents ? 
Where was it not considered wrong to intend their misery ? 
Where was it ever considered right to intend to requite 
kindness by injury ? and where was it ever considered 
WTong to intend to requite kindness with still greater kind- 
ness ? In regard to the manner in which these intentions 
may be fulfilled, there may be a difference ; but as to the 
moral quality of these intentions themselves, as well as of 
many othei-s, there is a veiy universal agreement among men. 

3. And still more, it will be seen, on examination, that, 
in these very cases, in which WTong actions are practised, 
they are justified on the ground of a good intention, or of 
some view of the relations between the parties, which, if 
tme, would render them innocent. Thus, if infanticide be 
justified, it is on the ground, that this world is a place of 
misery, and that the infant is better off not to encounter its 
troubles ; that is, that the parent wishes or intends well to 
the child : or else it is defended on the ground, that the re- 
lation between parent and child is such as to confer on the 
one the right of life and death over the other ; and, there- 
fore, that to take its life is as innocent as the slaying of a 
brute, or the destruction of a vegetable. Thus, also, are 
paixicide, and revenge, and various other wrong actions, 
defended. Where can the race of men be found, be they 
ever so savage, who need to be told that ingi'atitude is 
wrong, that parents ought to love their children, or that 



52 IS THERE A CONSCIENCE ? 

men ought to be submissive and obedient to the Supreme 
Divinity ? 

4. And still more, I think one of the strongest exemplifi- 
cations of the universality of moral distinctions, is found in 
the character of many of the ancient heathen. They per- 
ceived these distinctions, and felt and obeyed the impulses 
of conscience, even though at variance with all the ex- 
amples of the deities whom they worshipped. Thus, says 
Rousseau, " Cast your eyes over all the nations of the 
world, and all the histories of nations. Amid so many 
inhuman and absurd superstitions, amid that prodigious 
divei-sity of manners and characters, you will find every 
where the same principles and distinctions of moral good 
and evil. The paganism of the ancient world produced, 
indeed, abominable gods, who, on earth, would have been 
shunned or punished as monsters ; and who offered, as a 
picture of supreme happiness, only crimes to commit, or pas- 
sions to satiate. But Vice, armed with this sacred authority, 
descended in vain from the eternal abode. *S'Ae found m 
the heart of man, a moral instinct to repel her. The con- 
tinence of Xenocrates was admired by those who cele- 
brated the debaucheries of Jupiter. The chaste Lucretia 
adored the unchaste Venus. The most intrepid Roman 
sacrificed to fear. He invoked the god who dethroned his 
father, and died without a murmur by the hand of his own. 
The most contemptible divinities were served by the great- 
est men. The holy voice of nature, stronger than that of 
the gods, made itself heard, and respected, and obeyed on 
earth, and seemed to banish to the confines of heaven, guilt 
and the guilty." Quoted by Dr. Brown, Lecture 75. 

II. Again, the objection has been made in another form 
It is said, that savages violate, without remorse or compunc 
tion, the plainest piinciples of right. Such is the case 
when they are guilty of revenge and licentiousness. 

This objection has been partly considered before, t 
may, however, be added, 

First. No men, nor any class of men, violate every moral 
precept without compunction, without the feeling of guilt, 
and the consciousness of desert of punishment. 



THE DECISION OF CONSCIENCE. 53 

Secondly. Hence the objection will rather prove the 
existence of a defective or imperfect conscience, than that 
no such faculty exists. The same objection would prove 
us destitute of taste or of understanding ; because these 
faculties exist, only in an imperfect state, among savages 
and uncultivated men. 

III. It has been objected, again, that, if we suppose this 
faculty to exist, it is, after all, useless ; for if a man please 
to \'iolate it, and to suffer the pain, then this is the end of 
the question, and, as Dr. Paley says, " the moral instinct 
man has notliing more to offer." 

To this it may be answered : 

The objection proceeds upon a mistake respecting the 
function of conscience. Its use is, to teach us to discern 
our moral obligations, and to impel us towards the corre- 
sponding action. It is not pretended, by the behevers in a 
moral sense, that man may not, after all, do as he chooses. 
All that they contend for is, that he is constituted with 
such a faculty, and that the possession of it is necessary to 
his moral accountability. It is in his power to obey it or 
to disobey it, just as he pleases. The fact that a man may 
obey or disobey conscience, no more proves that it does 
not exist, than the fact that he sometimes does, and some- 
tin'ies does not obey, passion, proves that he is destitute of 
passion. 



SECTION II. 



OP THE MANNER IN WHICH THE DECISION OF CONSCIENCE IS 
EXPRESSED. 



Whoever will attentively observe the operations of his 
own mind, when deciding upon a moral question, and when 
caiT)dng that decision into effect, will, I think, be conscious 
of several distinct forms of moral feeling. These I sup- 
pose to be the following : 

1. Suppose we are deliberating, respecting an action, 
before jperforming it. 



54 THE DECISION OF CONSCIENCE 

1. If we pause, and candidly consider the nature of an 
action, which involves, in any respect, our relations with 
others ; amidst the various qualities which characterize the 
action, we shall not fail to perceive its moral quality. We 
may perceive it to be gratifying or self-denying, courteous 
or uncivil, in favor of, or against, our interest ; but, distinct 
from all these, and differing from them all, we may always 
perceive, that it seems to us to be either right or wrong. 
Let a man recollect any of the cases in his own history, in 
which he has been called upon to act under import&m 
responsibility, and he will easily remember, both the fact, 
and the pain and distress produced by the conflict of these 
opposite impulsions. It is scarcely necessary to remark, 
that we easily, or, at least, with much greater ease, perceive 
this quality in the actions of others. We discern the mot& 
in our hrother's eye much sooner than the beam in our 
own eye. 

2. Besides this discriminating power, I think we may 
readily observe a distinct impulse to do that which we con- 
ceive to be right, and to leave undone that which we con- 
ceive to be wrong. This impulse we express by the words 
ought, and ought not. Thus, we say it is right to tell the 
truth ; and I ought to tell it. It is wrong to tell a lie ; 
and I ought not to tell it. Ought, and ought not, seem to 
convey the abstract idea of right and wrong, together with 
the other notion of impulsion to do, or not to do, a partic- 
ular action. Thus, we use it always to designate a motive 
to action, as we do passion, or self-love, or any other motive 
power. If we are asked, why we performed any action, 
we reply, we acted thus, because it gratified our desires, or 
because it was for our interest, upon the whole, or because 
we felt that ive ought to act thus. Either of them is con- 
sidered sufficient to account for the fact ; that is, either of 
them explains the motive or impulse, in obedience to which 
we acted. It is, also, manifest, that we use the tenn, not 
merely to designate an impulse, but, also, an obligation to 
act in conformity with it. Thus we say, we ought to do 
a thing, meaning that we are not only impelled towards the 
action, but that we are under an imperative obligation to 
act thus. This is still more distinctly seen^ when we speak 



THE DECISION OF CONSCIENCE. 55 

of another. When we say of a friend, tliat he ought to 
do any thing, as we cannot judge of the impulses which 
move him, we refer, principally, to this conviction of obli- 
gation, which, above every other, should govern him. 

The power of this impulse of conscience is most dis- 
tinctly seen, when it comes into collision with the impulse 
of strong and vehement passion. It is then, that the hu- 
man soul is agitated to the full extent of its capacity for 
emotion. And this contest generally continues, specially 
if we have decided in opposition to conscience, until the 
action is commenced. The voice of conscience is then 
lost amid the whirlwind of passion ; and it is not heard 
until after the deed is done. It is on this account, that this 
state of mind is frequently selected by the poets, as a 
subject for delineation. Shakspeare frequently alludes to 
all these offices of conscience, with the happiest effect. 

The constant monitory power of conscience is thus illus- 
ti-ated, by one of the murderers about to assassinate the 
Duke of Clarence : "I'll not meddle with it (conscience) ; 
it is a dangerous thing ; it makes a man a coward ; a man 
cannot steal, but it accuseth him ; a man cannot swear, 
but it checks him. 'Tis a blushing, shamefaced spirit, 
that mutinies in a man's bosom : it fills one full of ob- 
stacles. It made me once restore a purse of gold, that, 
by chance, I found. It beggars any man that keeps it." 
Richard III, Act i, Sc. 4. The whole scene is a striking 
exemplification of the workings of conscience, even in the 
bosoms of the most abandoned of men. The wicked 
Clarence appeals to the consciences of his murderers ; and 
they strengthen themselves against his appeals, by refemng 
to his own atrocities, and thus awakening in their own 
bosoms the conviction that he ought to die. 

The state of mind of a man meditating a wicked act, 
and the temporary victory of conscience, are seen in the 
following extract from Macbeth. He recalls the relations 
in which Duncan stood to him, and these produce so strong 
a conviction of the wickedness of the murder, that he 
decides not to commit it. 

" If the assassination 
Could trammel up the consequence, and catch. 



56 THE DECISION OF CONSCIENCE. 

With his surcease, success ; tliat but this blow 
Might be the be-all and the eud-all here, 
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, — 
We 'd jump the life to come. — But, in these cases, 
We stiil have judgment here ; tliat we but teach 
Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return 
To plague the inventor. This even-handed justice 
Commends the ingredients of our poisoned chalice 
To our own lips. He's here in duiible trust: 
First, as I am his kinsman and his subject, 
Strong both against the deed ; then, as his host, 
Who should against his murderer shut the door, 
Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan 
Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been 
So clear in his great office, that his virtues 
Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against 
The deep damnation of his taking off. 

* ***** 

I have no spur 
To prick the sides of my intent, but only 
Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself." 

Macb 

The anguish which attends upon an action not yet com- 
menced, but only resolved upon, while we still doubt of 
its lawflilness, is finely illustrated by the same author, in 
the case of Brutus, who, though a man of great fortitude, 
was, by the anguish of contending emotions, deprived of 
sleep, and so changed in behavior, as to give his wife 
reason to suspect the cause of his disquietude : 

" Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar, 
I have not slept. 

Between the acting of a dreadful thing 
And the first motion, all the interim is 
Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream : 
The genius, and the mortal instruments. 
Are then in council; and the state of man, 
Like to a little kingdom, suffers then , 

The nature of an insurrection." 

J. CcBsar, Act u. So. 1. 

The same contest between conscience and the lower 
propensities, is, as 1 suppose, graphically described by the 
Apostle Paul, in the seventh chapter of his Epistle to the 
Romans. 

II. Suppose now an action to be doTie. I think that 
every one who examines his own heart will be conscious 
of another class of feelings consequent on those to which 
we have just alluded. 



THE DECISION OF CONSCIENCE. 57 

1. If he have obeyed the impulses of conscience, and 
resisted successRilly the impulses at variance with it, he 
will be conscious of a feeling of innocence, of self-appro- 
bation, of desert of reward. If the action have been done 
by another, he will feel towards him a sentiment of respect, 
of moral approbation, and a desire to see him rewarded, 
and, on many occasions, to reward him himself. 

2. If he have disobeyed the impulses of conscience, he 
will be conscious of guilt, of self-abasement, and self-disap- 
probation or remorse, and of desert of punishment. If it 
have been done by another, he will be conscious of a sen- 
timent of moral disapprobation, and of a desire that the 
offender should be punished, and, in many cases, of a desire 
to punish him himself. Of course, I do not say that all 
these feelings can be traced, by reflection upoit every 
action ; but I think that, in all cases in which our moral 
sensibilities are at all aroused, we can trace some, and fre 
quently all of them. 

In accordance with these remarks, several facts may be 
noticed. 

The boldness of innocence, and the timidity of guilt, so 
often observed by moralists and poets, may be thus easily 
accounted for. The virtuous man is conscious of deserving 
nothing but reward. Whom, then, should he fear? The 
guilty man is conscious of desert of punishment, and is 
aware that every one who knows of his offence desires to 
punish him ; and as he never is certain but that every one 
knows it, whom can he trust ? And, still more, there is, 
with the feeling of desert of punishment, a disposition to 
submit to punishment arising from our own self-disapproba- 
tion and remoi^e. This depresses the spirit, and humbles 
the courage of the offender, far more than even the external 
circumstances by which he is surrounded. 

Thus, says Solomon, "the wicked flee when no man 
pursueth ; but the righteous is bold as a lion." 

" What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted f 
Thrice is he armed, who hath his quarrel just ; 
And he but naked, though locWdup in steel, 
Whose conscience with injus'ice is orrrupted.'^ 

2d Part Henry VI, Act iii, Sc. 2. 



58 THE DECISION OF CONSCIENCE. 

" Sitsptcion always haunts the guilty mind ; 
The thief doth fear each bush an officer." 

2d Part Henry VI, Act v, So. 6. 

" I feel within me 
A peace, above all earthly dignities, — 
A stilloxid quiet conscience." 

Henry VUI, Act iii, Sc. 2. 

The eftect of guilt : 

" No wonder why 
I felt rebuked beneath his eye ; 
I might have known, there was but one, 
Whose look could quell Lord Marmion." 

Marmion, Cant, vi, 17. 

" Curse on yon base marauder's lance, 
And doubly curs'd my failing brand ! 
A sinful heart makes feeble hand." 

Marmicn, Cant, vi, St. 32. 

It is in consequence of the same facts, that crime is, with 
SO great certainty, detected. 

A man, before the commission of crime, can foresee no 
reason why he might not commit it, with the certainty of 
escaping detection. He can perceive no reason why he 
should be even suspected ; and can imagine a thousand 
methods, in which suspicion, awakened, might with perfect 
ease be allayed. But, as soon as he becomes guilty, his 
relations to his fellow-men are entirely changed. He be- 
comes suspicious of every one, and thus sees every occur- 
rence through a false medium. Hence, he cannot act like 
an innocent man ; and this very difference in his conduct, 
IS very often the sure means of his detection. When to 
this effect, produced upon the mind by guilt, is added the 
fact, that every action must, by the condition of our being, 
be attended by antecedents and consequents beyond our 
control, all of which lead directly to the discovery of the 
truth, it is not wonderful, that the guilty so rarely escape. 
Hence it has gi'own into a proverb, " murder will out ; " 
and such we generally find to be the fact. 

This effect of guilt upon human action has been jfre- 
quently remarked. 

Thus, Macbeth, after the murder of Duncan : 



THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. 59 

" How is it witli me when every noise appals me ? " 

Act ii, Sc. 2 

" Guiltiness will speak, thouorh tongues were out of use." 

The same fact is frequently asserted in the sacred Sciip- 
tures. Thus, " The Lord is known by the judgment that 
he executeth ; the wicked is snared in the work of his own 
handsJ^ 

" Though hand join in hand, the wicked shall not go 
unpunished." 

I hope that I need not apologize for introducing into 
such a discussion so many illustrations from poetry. They 
are allowed, on all hands, to be accurate delineations of the 
workings of the human mind, and to have been made by 
most accurate observers. They were made, also, withou' 
the possibility of bias from any theory ; and therefore a^.^ 
of great value, when they serve to confinn any theoretical 
views, with which they may chance to coincide. They 
show, at least, in what light poets, whose only object is to 
observe the human heart, have considered conscience, and 
what they have supposed to be its functions, and its mode 
of operation. 



SECTION III. 

THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. 

We have, thus far, endeavored to show, that tliere is in 
man a faculty denominated Conscience ; and that it is not 
merely a discriminating, but also an impulsive faculty. 
The next question to be considered is, what is the authority 
of this impulse. 

The object of the present section is, to show that this 
is the most authoritative impulse of which we find ourselves 
susceptible. 

The supremacy of Conscience may be illustrated in 
various ways. 



60 THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. 

I. It is involved in the veiy conception which men fomi 
of tliis faculty. 

The various impulses of which we find ourselves suscep- 
tible, can differ only in two respects, that of strength and 
that of authority. 

When we believe them to differ in nothing but strength, 
we feel ourselves perfectly at liberty to obey the strong- 
est. Thus, if different kinds of food be set before us, 
all equally healthy, we feel entirely at liberty to partake, 
of that which we prefer ; that is, of that to which we are 
most strongly impelled. If a man is to decide between 
making a journey by land, or by water, he considers it a 
sufficient motive for choice, that the one mode of travel- 
ling is more pleasant to him than the other. But when 
our impulses differ in authority, we feel obliged to neglect 
the difference in strength of impulse, and to obey that, be 
it ever so weak, which is of the higher authority. Thus, 
suppose our desire for any particular kind of food to be 
ever so strong, and we know that it would injure our 
health; self-love would admonish us to leave it alone. 
Now, self-love being a more authoritative imnulse than 
passion, we should feel an obligation to obey it. be its 
admonition ever so weak, and the impulse of appetite ever 
so vehement. If we yield to the impulse of appetite, be it 
ever so strong, in opposition to that of self-love, be it ever 
so weak, we feel a consciousness of self-degradation, and of 
acting unworthily of our nature ; and, if we see anothei 
person acting in this manner, we cannot avoid feeling 
towards him a sentiment of contempt. " 'Tis not in folly 
not to scorn a fool." And, in general, whenever we act 
in obedience to a lower, and in opposition to a higher sen- 
timent, we feel this consciousness of degradation, which we 
do not feel when the impulses differ only in degree. And, 
conversely, whenever we feel this consciousness of degrada- 
tion, for acting in obedience to one instead of to another, 
we may know that we have violated that which is of the 
liigher authoiity 

If, now, we reflect upon our feelings consequent upon 
any moral action, I think we shall find, that we always are 
conscious of a sentiment of self-degradation, whenever we 



THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. Gl 

disobey the monition of conscience, be that monition ever 
so lueaJc, to gratify the impulse of appetite, or passion, or 
seif-love, be that impulse ever so strong. Do we consider 
it any palliation of the guilt of murder, for the criminal to 
declare, that his vindictive feelings impelled him much more 
strongly than his conscience ? whereas, if we perceived in 
these impulses no other difference than that of strength, we 
«liould consider this not merely an excuse, but a justifica- 
tion. And that the impulse of conscience is of the highest 
authority, is evident fi'om the fact, that we cannot conceive 
of any circumstances, in which we should not feel guilty 
and degraded, fi-om acting in obedience to any impulse 
whatever, in opposition to the impulse of conscience. And 
thus, we cannot conceive of any more exalted character, 
than that of him, who, on all occasions, yields himself up 
implicitly to the impulses of conscience, all things else 
to the contrary notwithstanding. I think no higher evi- 
dence can be produced, to show that we do really considei 
the impulse of conscience of higher authority than any 
other of which we are susceptible. 

II. The same tmth may, I think, be rendered evident, 
by observing the feelings which arise within us, when we 
compare the actions of men with those of beings of an 
inferior order. 

Suppose a brute to act from appetite, and injure itself by 
gluttony ; or from passion, and injure another brute fi'om 
anger: we feel nothing like moral disapprobation. We 
pity it, and strive to put it out of its power to act thus in 
future. We never feel that a brute is disgraced or degi-aded 
by such an action. But suppose a man to act thus, and 
we cannot avoid a feeling of disapprobation and of disgust ; 
a con vie ti^ that the man has done violence to his nature 
Thus, to call a man a bmte, a sensualist, a glutton, is to 
speak of him* in the most insulting manner : it is to say 
in the strongest terms, that he has acted unworthily of him 
self, and of the nature with which his Creator has endowed 
him. 

Again. Let a brnte act fi'om deliberate selfishness ; that 
is, with deliberate caution seek its own happiness upon the 
whole, unmindful of the impulsions of present appetite, bul 
6 



62 THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. 

yet wholly regardless of the happiness of any other of its 
species. In no case do we feel disgust at such a course of 
action; and in many cases, we, on the contraiy, rather 
regard it with favor. We thus speak of the cunning of 
animals in taking their prey, in escaping danger, and in 
securing for themselves all the amount of gratification that 
may be in their power. We are sensible, in these cases, 
that the animal has acted from the highest impulses of 
which the Creator has made it susceptible. But let a man 
act thus. Let him, careful merely of his own happiness 
upon the whole, be careful for nothing else, and be perfectly 
willing to sacrifice the happiness of others, to any amount 
whatsoever, to promote his own, to the least amount soever. 
Such has been, firequently, the character of sensual and 
unfeeling tyrants. We are conscious, in such a case, of a 
sentiment of disgust and deep disapprobation. We feel 
that the man has not acted in obedience to the highest 
impulses of which he was susceptible ; and poets, and 
satirists, and historians, unite in holding him up to the world> 
as an object of universal detestation and abhorrence. 

Again. Let another man, disregarding the impulses oi 
passion, and appetite, and self-love, act, under all circum- 
stances, in obedience to the monitions of conscience, un- 
moved and unallured by pleasure, and unawed by power ; 
and we instinctively feel that he has attained to the highest 
eminence to which our nature can aspire ; and that he has 
acted from the highest impulse of which his nature is sus- 
ceptible. We are conscious of a conviction of his superi- 
ority, which nothing can outweigh ; of a feeling of venera- 
tion, aUied to the reverence which is due to the Supreme 
Being. And with this homage to virtue, all history is 
filled. The judge may condemn the innocent, but posterity 
will condemn the judge. The tyrant may murder the 
martyr, but after ages will venerate the mart}T, and exe- 
crate the tyrant. And if we will look over the names of 
those, on whom all past time has united in conferring the 
tribute of praise-worthiness, we shall find them to be the 
names of those who, although they might differ in other 
respects, yet were similar in this, that they shone resplendent 
in the lustre of unsullied virtue. 



THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCifc.NCE. 63 

Now, as oui' Creator lias constituted us such as we are, 
and as, by our very constitution, we do thus consider con- 
science lo be the most authoritative impulse of our nature, 
it must be the most authoritative, unless we believe that He 
has deceived us, or, which is the same thing, that He has 
so fonned us, as to give credit to a he. 

ni. The supremacy of conscience may be also illustra- 
ted, by showing the necessity of this supremacy, to the 
accomplishment of the objects for which man was created. 

When we consider any work of art, as a system com- 
posed of parts, and arranged for the accomplishment of a 
given object, there are three several views which we may 
have of it, and all of them necessary to a complete and 
perfect knowledge of the thing. 

1. We must have a knowledge of the several parts of 
which it is composed. Thus, he who would understand a 
watch, must know the various wheels and springs which 
enter into the fomiation of the instrument. But this alone, 
as, for instance, if they were spread separately before him, 
upon a table, would give him a very imperfect conception 
of a watch. 

2. He must, therefore, understand how these parts are 
put together. This will greatly increase his knowledge ; 
but It will still be imperfect, for he may yet be ignorant of 
the relations which the parts sustain to each other. A 
man might look at a steam-engine until he was familiarly 
acquainted with its whole machinery, and yet not know 
whether the paddles were designed to move the piston-rod, 
or the piston-rod to move the paddles. 

3. It is necessary, therefore, that he should have a con- 
ception of the relation which the several parts sustain to 
each other; that is, of the eftect which every part was 
designed to produce upon every other part. When he has 
arrived at this idea, and has combined it with the other 
ideas just mentioned, then, and not till then, is his knowl- 
evige of the instrument complete. 

ir. is manifest, that this last notion, that of the relations 
which the parts sustain to each other, is, frequently, of 
more importance than either of the others. He who has 
a conception of the cause of motion in a steam-engine, and 



64 THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE 

of the manner m which the ends are accompUshed, has a 
more valuable notion of the instrument, than he who has 
ever so accm'ate a knowledge of the several parts, without' 
a conception of the relation. Thus, in the history of 
astronomy, the existence of the several parts of the solar 
system was known for ages, without being productive of 
any valuable result. The progress of astronomy is to be 
dated from the moment, when the relation which the several 
parts hold to each other, was discovered by Copernicus. 

Suppose, now, we desire to ascertain what is the relation 
which the several parts of any system are designed, by its 
author, to sustain to each other. I know of no other way, 
than to find out that series of relations, in obedience to which 
the system will accomplish the object for which it was con- 
structed. Thus, if we desire to ascertain the relation which 
the parts of a watch are designed to sustain to each other, 
we inquire what is that series of relations, in obedience to 
which, it will accomplish the purpose for which it was con- 
structed, that is, to keep time. For instance, we should 
conduct the inquiry by trying each several part, and ascer- 
taining by experiment, whether, on the supposition that it 
was the cause of motion, the result, namely, the keeping of 
time, could be effected. After we had tried them all, and 
had found, that under no other relation of the parts to each 
other, than that which assumes the mainspring to be the 
source of motion, and the balance wheel to be the regulator 
of the motion, the result could be produced ; we should 
conclude, with certainty, that this was the relation of the 
parts to each other, intended to be established by the maker 
of the watch. 

And, again, if an instrument w^jt'? designed for several 
purposes, and if it was found, that not only a single pur- 
pose could not be accomplished, but that no one of them 
could be accomplished, under any other system of relations 
than tliat which had been at first d^^overed, we snould 
arrive at the highest proof of which the cg-^e was suscep- 
tible, that such was the relation intended to oe established 
between the parts, by the inventor Oi* the machine. 

Now, man is a system composed of parts in the manner 
above stated. He has various powers, ana faculties, anG 



THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. 65 

impulses ; and he is manifestly designed to produce some 
result. As to the ultimate design for which man was 
created, there may be a difference of opinion. In one 
\dew, however, I presume there ^\■ill be no difference. It 
will be allowed by all, that he was designed for the produc- 
tion of his own happiness. Look at his senses, his intellect, 
his affections, and at the external objects with which these 
are brought into relation ; and at the effects of the legiti- 
mate action of these powei-s upon their appropriate objects ; 
and no one can for a moment doubt, that this was one 
object for which man was created. Thus, it is as clear, 
that the eye was intended to be a source of pleasure, as that 
It was intended to be the instmment of vision. It is as clear, 
tliat the ear was intended to be a source of pleasure, as to be 
the organ of hearing. And thus of the other faculties. 

But when we consider man as an instrument for the pro- 
duction of happiness, it is manifest, that we must take into 
the account, man as a society, as well as man as an indi- 
vidual. The larger part of the happiness of the individual 
depends upon society ; so that whatever would destroy 
society, — or, what is, in fact, tlie same thing, destroy 
the happiness of man as a society, — ^would destroy the 
happiness of man as an individual. And such is the con- 
stitution under which we are placed, that no benefit or 
injuiy can be, in its nature, indi\ddual. Whoever tmly 
promotes his own happiness, promotes the liappiness of 
society; and whoever promotes the happiness of society, 
promotes his o^vn happiness. In this \'iew of the subject, 
it will then be proper to consider man as a society, as an 
instmment for producing the happiness of man as a society ; 
as well as man as an individual, as an instmment for pi'o 
ducing the happiness of man as an individual. 

Let us now consider man as an instmment for the pro- 
duction of human happiness, in the sense here explained. 

If we examine the impulsive and restraining faculties of 
man, we shall find, that they may, generally, be compre- 
hended under three classes : — 

1. Passion or appetite. The object of this class of our 
faculnes is, to impel us towards certain acts, which produce 
immediate pleasure. Thus, the appetite for food impels us 
6* 



66 THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. 

to seek gratification by eating. The love of power impels 
us to seek the gratification resulting fi'om superiority ; and 
so of all the rest. 

If we consider the nature of these faculties, we shall find, 
that they impel us to immediate gratification, without any 
respect to the consequences, either to ourselves or to 
others ', and that they know of no limit to indulgence, until, 
by their own action, they paralyze the power of enjoyment. 
Thus, the love of food would impel us to eat, until eating 
ceased to be a source of pleasure. And where, from the 
nature of the case, no such limit exists, our passions are 
insatiable. Such is the case with the love of wealth, and 
the love of power. In these instances, there being, in the 
constitution of man, no limit to the power of gratification, 
the appetite grows by what it feeds on. 

2. Interest or self-love. This faculty impels us to seek 
our own happiness, considered in reference to a longer or 
shorter period ; but always beyond the present moment. 
Thus, if appetite impelled me to eat, self-love would 
prompt me to eat such food, and in such quantity, as would 
produce for me the greatest amount of happiness, upon the 
whole. If passion prompted me to revenge, self-love would 
prompt me to seek revenge in such a manner as would not 
involve me in greater distress than that which I now suffer ; 
or, to control, the passion entirely, unless I could so gratify 
it, as to promote my own happiness for the future, as well 
as for the present. In all cases, however, the promptings 
of self-love have respect solely to the production of our own 
happiness ; they have nothing to do with the happiness of 
any other being. 

3. Conscience. The office of conscience, considered in 
relation to these other impulsive faculties, is, to restrain our 
appetites within such limits, that the gratification of them 
will injure neither ourselves nor others ; and so to govern 
our self-love, that we shall act, not solely in obedience to 
the law of our own happiness, but in obedience to that law 
which restricts the pursuit of happiness within such limits, 
as shall not interfere with the happiness of others. It is 
not here asserted, that conscience always admonishes us to 
this effect ; or, that, when it admonishes us, it is always 



THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. 67 

successful. We may, if we please, disobey its monitions ; 
or, from reasons hereafter to be mentioned, its monitions 
may have ceased. What we would speak of here, is the 
tendency and object of this faculty ; and the result to which, 
if it were perfectly obeyed, it would manifestly lead. And, 
that such is its tendency, I think that no one, who reflects 
upon the operations of his own mind, can, for a moment, 
doubt. 

Suppose, now, man to be a system, for the promotion 
of happiness, individual and social ; and that these various 
impelling powers are parts of it. These powers being fre 
quently, in their nature, contradictory ; that is, being such, 
that one frequently impels to, and another repels from, the 
same action ; the question is, in what relation of these 
powei-s to each other, can the happiness of man be most 
successfully promoted. 

1. It cannot be asserted, that, when these impulsions are 
at variance, it is a matter of indifference to which of them 
we yield ; that is, that a man is just as happy, and renders 
society just as happy, by obeying the one as the other. 
For, as men always obey either the one or the other, this 
would be to assert that all men are equally happy ; and 
that every man promoted his own happiness just as much 
by one course of conduct, as by another ; than which, noth- 
ing can be more directly at variance with the whole experi- 
ence of all men, in all ages. It would be to assert, that the 
glutton, who is racked with pain, is as happy as the tem- 
perate and healthy man ; and that Nero and Caligula were 
as great benefactors to mankind, as Howard or Wilberforce. 

2. If, then, it be not indifferent to our happiness, to 
ivMch of them we yield the supremacy, the question re- 
tarns, Under what relation of each to the other, can the 
happiness of man be most successfully promoted ? 

1 . Can the happiness of man be promoted, by subjecting 
liis other impulses to his appetites and passions ? 

^Y referring to the nature of appetite and passion, as 
previously explained, it will be seen that the result to the 
individual, of such a course, would be sickness and death. 
It would be a life of unrestrained gratification of every 
Hesire, until the power of enjoyment was exhausted, without 



68 THE AUTHOllITY OF CONSCIENCE. 

the least regard to the future ; and of refusal to endure any 
present pain, no matter how great might be the subsequent 
advantage. Every one must see, that, under the present 
constitution, such a course of life must produce nothmg but 
individual misery. 

The result upon society would be its utter destruction. 
It would render every man a ferocious beast, bent upon 
nothing but present gratification, utterly reckless of the 
consequences which gratification produced upon himself, 
either directly, or through the instrumentality of others; 
and reckless of the havoc Vhich he made of the happiness 
of his neighbor. Now, it is manifest, that the result of 
subjecting man to such a principle, would be, not only the 
destruction of society, but, also, in a few years, the entire 
destruction of the human race. 

2. Can the happiness of man be best promoted by sub- 
jecting all his iinpulses to self-love ? 

It may be observed, that our knowledge of the future, 
and of the results of the things around us, is manifestly 
insufficient to secure our own happiness, even by the most 
sagacious self-love. When we give up the present pleas- 
ure, or suffer the present pain, we must, from necessity, be 
wholly ignorant whether we shall ever reap the advantage 
which we anticipate. The system, of which every in 
dividual forms a part, was not constructed to secure the 
happiness of any single individual ; and he who devises his 
plans with sole reference to himself, must find them contin- 
ually thwarted by that Omnipotent and Invisible Agency, 
which is overruling all things upon principles directly at 
variance with those which he has adopted. Inasmuch, then, 
as we can never certainly secure to ourselves those results 
which self-love anticipates, it seems necessary, that, in order 
to derive from our actions the happiness which they are 
capable of producing, they involve in themselves some ele- 
ment, irrespective of future result, which shall give us 
pleasure, let the result be what it may. 

The imperfection of self-love, as a director of conduct, is 
nobly set forth in Cardinal Wolsey's advice to Cromwell . 

" Mark but my fall, and that which ruin'd me. 
Cromwell, I charge thee fling away ambition 



THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. 69 

Love thyself loM. Cherish the hearts that hate thee. 

Be just, and fear not ; 
Let all the ends thou aim'st at, be thy country's, 
Thy God's, and truth's; then, if thou fall'st, O Cromwell I 
Thou fall'st a blessed martyr." 

Henmj VIII, Act iii, Sc. 2. 

" May he do justice, 
For truth's sake, and his conscience ; that his bones, 
When he has run his course, and sleeps in blessings, 
May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on them." 

Ihid. 

" For care and trouble set your thought, 
Ev'n when your end's attained ; 
And all your plans may come to nought, 
When every nerve is strained." 

BuRNs's Epistle to a Young Friend. 

" But, mousie ! thou art not alone, 
In proving /ore^o'/i^ may be vain . 
The best laid schemes of mice and men 
Gang oft agley. 
And leave us nought but grief and pain 
For promised joy." 

Burns, On turning up a Mouse's J^'est, 

Besides, a man, acting from uncontrolled self-love, know?? 
of no other object than his own happiness. He would 
sacrifice the happiness of others, to any amount, how greht 
soever, to secure his o^vn, in any amount, how small soeve*. 
Now, suppose every individual to act in obedience to this 
principle ; it must produce universal war, and terminate in 
the subjection of all to the dominion of the strongest ; and 
in sacrificing the happiness of all to that of one : that is, pro- 
duce the least amount of happiness of which the system u 
susceptible. And, still more, since men, who have acted 
upon this principle, have been proverbially unhappy ; the 
result of such a course of conduct is, to render ourselves 
miserable by the misery of every one else ; that is, its ten- 
dency is to the entire destruction of happiness. It is mani- 
fest, then, that the highest happiness of man cannot be 
promoted by subjecting all his impulses to the government 
of self-love. 

Lastly. Suppose, now, all the impulses of man to be 
^lubjected to conscience. 

The tendency of this impulse, so far as this subject is 



70 THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. 

concerned, is, to restrain the appetites and passions of man 
within those hniits, that shall conduce to his happiness, on 
the whole ; and so to control the impulse of self-love, that 
the individual, in the pursuit of his own happiness, shall 
never interfere with the rightful happiness of his neighbor. 
Each one, under such a system, and governed by such an 
impulse, would enjoy all the happiness which he could 
create by the use of the powers which God had given him. 
Every one doing thus, the whole would enjoy all the hap- 
piness of which their constitution was susceptible. The 
happiness of man, as an individual, and as a society, would 
thus be, in the best conceivable manner, provided for. 
And thus, under the relation which we have suggested ; 
that is, conscience being supreme, and governing both self- 
love and passion ; and self-love, where no higher principle 
intervened, governing passion ; man individual, and man 
universal, considered as an instrument for the production of 
happiness, would best accomplish the purpose for which 
he was created. This, then, is the relation between 
nis powers, which was designed to be established by his 
Creator. 

It can, in the same manner, be shown, that, if man, in 
dividual and universal, be considered as an instrument for 
the production of power, this end of his creation can be 
accomplished most successfully by obedience to the relation 
here suggested ; that is, on the principle, that the authority 
of conscience is supreme.^ This is conclusively shown in 
Butler^s Analogy, Part i. Chapter 3. And thus, let any 
reasonable end be suggested, for which it may be supposed 
that man has been created ; and it will be found, that this 
end can be best attained, by the subjection of every other 
impulse to that of conscience ; nay, that it can be attained 
in no other way. And hence, the argument seems con- 
clusive, that this is the relation intended by his Creator to 
be established between his faculties. 



Vis consili expers, mole ruit sua. 
Vim tcmperatavi, di quoque provehunt 
In majus } idem odere vires 
Omne nefas animo moventes. 

HoR. Lib. 3, Car. 4. 



THE LAW BY WHICH, ETC. 71 

If the preceding views be con-ect, it will follow : 

1 . If God has given man an impulse for virtue, it is as 
tme, that he has designed him for virtue, as for any thing 
else ; as, for instance, for seeing or for hearing. 

2. If this impulse be the most authoritative in his nature, 
it is equally manifest, that man is made for virtue more 
than for any thing else. 

3. And hence, he who is vicious, not only acts contrary 
to his nature, but contrary to the highest impulse of his 
nature ; that is, he acts as much in opposition to his nature 
as it is possible for us to conceive. 



SECTION IV. 

THE LAW BY WHICH CONSCIENCE IS GOVERNED. 

Conscience follows the general law, by which the im- 
provement of all our other faculties is regulated. It is 
strengthened by use, it is impaired by disuse. 

Here it is necessary to remark, that, by use, we mean 
the use of the faculty itself, and not of some other faculty. 
This is so plain a case, that it seems wonderful that there 
should have been any mistake concei^ning it. Every one 
knows, that the arms are not strengthened by using the 
legs, nor the eyes by using the ears, nor the taste by using 
the understanding. So, the conscience can be strength- 
ened, not by using the memory, or the taste, or the under- 
standing ; but by using the conscience, and by using it 
precisely according to the laws, and under the conditions, 
designed by our Creator. The conscience is not improved 
by the reading of moral essays, nor by committing to 
memory moral precepts, nor by imagining moral vicissi- 
tudes ; but by hearkening to its monitions, and obeying its 
impulses. 

If we reflect upon the nature of the monition of con- 
science, we shall find that its office is of a threefold 
character. 



72 THE LAW BY WHICH 

1. It enables us to discover the moral quality of actions. 

2. It impels us to do right, and to avoid doing wrong. 

3. It is a source of pleasure, when we have done right, 
and of pain, when we have done wrong. 

Let us illustrate the manner in which it may be im- 
proved, and injured, in each of these respects. 

I. Of the improvement of the discriminating power of 
conscience. 

1. The discriminating power of conscience is improved 
by reflecting upon the moral character of our actions, both 
before and after we have performed them. If, before we 
resolve upon a course of conduct, or before we suffer our- 
selves to be committed to it, we deliberately ask, Is this 
right 1 Am I now actuated by appetite, by self-love, or by 
conscience? we shall seldom mistake the path of duty. 
After an action has been perfomied, if we deliberately and 
impassionately examine it, we may without difficulty de- 
cide whether it was right or wrong. Now, with every 
such effort as this, the discriminating power of conscience 
is strengthened. We discern moral differences more dis- 
tincti)^ ; and we distinguish between actions, that before 
seemed blended and similar. 

2. The discriminating power of conscience is improved, 
by meditating upon characters of pre-emment excellence, 
and specially upon the character of God our Creator, and 
Christ our Redeemer, the Fountain of all moral excellence. 
As we cultivate taste, or our susceptibility to beauty, by 
meditating upon the most finished specimens of art, or the 
most lovely scenery in nature, so conscience, or our moral 
susceptibility, is improved, by meditating upon any thing 
eminent for moral goodness. It is hence, that example 
produces so powerful a moral effect ; and hence, that one 
single act of heroic virtue, as that of Howard, or of illus- 
trious self-denial, gives a new impulse to the moral char- 
acter of an age. Men cannot reflect upon such actions, 
without the production of a change in their moral suscep- 
tibility. Hence, the effect of the Scripture representations 
of the character of God, and of the moral glory of the 
heavenly state. The Apostle Paul refers to this principle, 
when he says, " We all, with open face, beholding, as in a 



CONSCIENCE IS GOVERNED. 73 

glass, the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same 
image, from gloiy to glory, even as by the Sphit of the 
Lord." 

On the contrary, the discriminating power of conscience 
may be injured, 

1. By neglecting to reflect upon the moral character of 
our actions, both before and after we have performed them. 
As taste is rendered obtuse by neglect, so that we fail to dis- 
tinguish between elegance and vulgarity, and between beauty 
and deformity ; so, if we yield to the impulses of passion, and 
turn a deaf ear to the monitions of conscience, the dividing 
line between right and wrong seems gradually to become 
obliterated. We pass from the confines of the one into 
those of tlie other, with less and less sensation, and at last 
neglect the distinction altogether. 

Horace remarks tliis fact : 

Fas atque nefas, exiguo fine, libidinum 
Discernunt avidi. 

This is one of the most common causes of the grievous 
moral imperfection which we every where behold. Men 
act without moral reflection. They will ask, respecting an 
action, every question before that most important one. Is it 
right ? and, in the great majority of cases, act without 
putting to themselves this question at all. " The ox 
knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib ; but 
[srael doth not know, my people do not consider. ^^ If any 
man doubt whether this be tme, let him ask himself, How 
large is the portion of the actions which I perform, upon 
which I deliberately decide whether they be right or wrong ? 
And on how large a portion of my actions do I form such 
a decision, after they have been performed ? For the 
want of this reflection, the most pernicious habits are daily 
formed or strengthened ; and, when to the power of habit 
is added the seductive influence of passion, it is not won- 
derful that the \nitue of man should be the victim. 

2. The discriminating power of conscience is impaired 
by frequent meditation upon vicious character and actbn. 
By fi-equently contemplating vice, our passions become 
excited, and our moral disgust diminishes. Thus, also, by 

7 



74 THE LAW BY WHICH 

becoming familiar with wicked men, we learn to associate 
whatever they may possess of intellectual or social interest, 
with theii* moral character; and hence our ahorrence of 
vice is lessened. Thus, men who are accustomed to view, 
habitually, any vicious custom, cease to have their moral 
feelings excited by beholding it. All this is manifest, from 
the facts made known in the progress of every moral refor- 
mation. Of so delicate a texture has God made our moral 
nature, and so easily is it either improved or impaired. 
Pope says, tmly, 

Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, 
As, to be dreaded, needs but to be seen ; 
But, seen too oft, familiar with her face, 
We first endure, then pity, then embrace. 

It is almost unnecessary to remark, that this fact will enable 
us to estimate the value of much of our reading, and of 
much of our society. Whatever fills the memory with 
scenes of vice, or stimulates the imagination to conceptions 
of impurity, vulgarity, profanity, or thoughtlessness, must, 
by the whole of this effect, render us vicious. As a man 
of literary sensibility will avoid a badly written book, for 
fear of injuring his taste, by how much more should we 
dread the communion with any thing wrong, lest it should 
contaminate our imagination, and thus injure our moral 
sense ! 

II. The impulsive power of conscience is improved by 
use, and weakened by disuse. 

To illustrate this law, we need only refer to the elements 
of man's active nature. We are endowed with appetites, 
passions, and self-love, in all their various forms ; and any 
one of them, or all of them, may, at times, be found impel- 
ling us towards actions in opposition to the impulsion of 
conscience ; and, of course, one or the other impulse must 
be resisted. Now, as the law of our faculties is universal, 
that they are strengthened by use, and weakened by disuse, 
It is manifest, that, when we obey the impulse of conscience, 
and resist the impulse of passion, the power of conscience is 
strengthened; and, on the contrary, when we obey the 
impulse of passion, and resist that of conscience, the power 



ClyNSClLNCi<. IS GOVERNED. 75 

of passion L strengthened. And, yet more, as either of 
these is strengthened, its antagonist impulse- is weakened. 
Thus, every time a man does right, he gains a victory over 
his lower propensities, acquires self-control, and becomes 
more emphatically a freemar Eveiy time a man does 
wrong, that is, yields to his lower propensities, he loses self- 
control, he gives to his passions power over him, he weakens 
the practical sujiremacy of conscience, and becomes more 
perfectly a slave. The design of the Christian religion, in 
this respect, is to bring us under the dominion of conscience, 
enlightened by revelation, and to deliver us fi*om the slavery 
of evil propensity. Thus, our Lord declares, " If the Son 
shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed." And, on 
the contrary, " Whosoever committeth sin, is the servant 
(the slave) of sin." 

Again. It is to be remarked, that there exists a recipro- 
cal connection between the use of the discriminating and of 
the impulsive power of conscience. The more a man 
reflects upon moral distinctions, the greater will be the 
practical influence which he will find them to exert over 
liim. And it is still more decidedly true, that, the more 
implicitly we obey the impulsions of conscience, the more 
acute will be its power of discrimination, and the more 
prompt and definite its decisions. This connection between 
theoretical knowledge and practical application, is frequently 
illustrated in the other faculties. He who delineates objects 
of loveliness, finds the discriminating power of taste to 
improve. And thus, also, this effect, in morals, is frequent- 
ly alluded to in the Scriptures. 

Our Sa\'ior declares, " If any man will do his will, he 
shall Jcnow of the doctrine." 

Thus, also, " Unto him that hath, shall be given, and he 
shall have abundance ; but from him that hath not (that 
is, does not improve what he has), shall be taken away 
even that which he hath." 

Thus, also, the Apostle Paul : " I beseech you therefore, 
brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your 
bodies a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable unto God, 
which is your rational service ; and be ye not confoiTned to 
(his world, but be ye transformed unto the renewing of your 



76 THE LAW BY WHICH 

mind, that (so that, to the end that) ye may know what is 
that good, and acceptable, and perfect will of the Lord." 

III. The sensibility of conscience, as a source of pleas" 
lire or of pain, is strengthened by use, and weakened by 
disuse. 

The more frequently a man does right, the stronger is 
his impulse to do right, and the greater is the pleasure that 
results from the doing of it. A liberal man derives a pleasure 
from the practice of charity, of which tho covetous man 
can form no conception. A beneficent man is made 
happy by acts of self-denial and philanthropy, while a 
selfish man perfonns an act of goodness by painfril and 
strenuous effort, and merely to escape the reproaches of 
conscience. By the habitual exercise of the benevolent 
affections, a man becomes more and more capacious of vir- 
tue, capable of higher and more disinterested and more 
self-denying acts of mercy, until he becomes an enthusiast 
m goodiiess, loving to do good better than any thing else. 
And, in the same manner, the more our affections to God 
are exercised, the more constant and profound is the 
happiness which they create, and the more absolutely is 
every other wish absorbed by the single desire to do the 
will of God. Illustrations of these remarks may be found 
in the lives of the Apostle Paul, John Howard, and other 
philanthropists. Thus, it is said of our Savior, " He 
went about doing good." And he says of himself, " My 
meat is to do the will of Him that sent me, and to finish 
his work." 

And it deserves to be remarked, that, in our presen 
state, opportunities for moral improvement and moral pleas- 
ure are incessantly occurring. Under the present condition? 
of our being, there are every where, and at all times, sick 
to be relieved, mourners to be comforted, ignorant to be 
taught, vicious to be reclaimed, and men, by nature enemies 
to God, to be won back to reconciliation to Him. The 
season for moral laW depends not, like that for physical 
labor, upon vicissitudes beyond our control : it depends 
solely upon our own will. This I suppose to be the gener- 
al principle involved in our Savior's remark to his Apostles : 
*' Say ye not, There are four months, and then cometh the 



CONSCIENCE IS GOVERNED 11 

harvest ? Lift up your eyes, and look upon the fields, for they 
are tvhite already to the harvest J^ That is, the fields are 
always waiting for tiie laborer in the moral harvest. 

And, on die contraiy, the man who habitually \aolates 
his conscience, not only is more feebly impelled to do right, 
but he becomes less sensible to the pain of doing wrong. 
A child feels poignant remorse after the fii'st act of pilfer- 
ing. Let the habit of dishonesty be fonned, and he will be- 
come so hackneyed in sin, that he will perpetrate robbery 
with no other feeling than that of mere fear of detection. 
The fii'st oath almost palsies the tongue of the stripling. It 
requires but a few months, however, to transform him into 
the bold and thoughtless blasphemer. The murderer, after 
the death of his first victim, is agitated with all the horrors 
of guilt. He may, however, pursue his trade* of blood, 
until he have no more feeling for man, than the butcher for 
the animal which he slaughters. Burk, who was in the 
habit of murdering men, for the purpose of selling theii- 
bodies to the surgeons for dissection, confessed this of him- 
self. Nor is this true of individuals alone. Whole com- 
munities may become so accustomed to deeds of violence, 
as not merely to lose all the milder sympathies of their 
nature, but also to take pleasure in exhibitions of the most 
revolting ferocity. Such was the case in Rome at the 
period of the gladiatorial contests ; and such was the fact in 
Paris at the time of the French revolution. 

This also serves to illustrate a frequently repeated aph- 
orism, Q^uem Dem vult perdere, prius dementat. As a man 
becomes more wicked, he becomes bolder in crime. Un- 
checked by conscience, he ventures upon more and more 
atrocious villany, and he does it with less and less precau- 
tion. As, in the earliest stages of guilt, he is betrayed by 
timidity, in the later stages of it, he is exposed by his reck- 
lessness. He is thus discovered by the veiy effect which 
his conduct is producing upon his own mind. Thus, 
oppressors and despots seem to rush upon their own ruin, 
■55 though bereft of reason. Such limits has our Creator, 
by the conditions of our being, set to the range of human 
atrocity. 

Thus we see, that, by every step in our progress in 

7* 



78 THE LAW BY WHICH, ETC. 

Virtue, the succeeding step becomes less difficult. In pro- 
portion as we deny our passions, they become less imper- 
ative. The oftener we conquer them, the less is the moral 
effort necessary to secure the victory, and the less frequently 
and the less pow^erfully do they assail us. By eveiy act 
of successful resistance, we diminish the tremendous power 
of habit over us, and thus become more perfectly under 
the government of our oym will. Thus, with every act of 
obedience to conscience, our character is fixed upon a more 
immovable foundation. 

And, on the contrary, by every act of vicious indulgence, 
we give our passions more uncontrolled power over us, 
and diminish the power of reason and of conscience. 
Thus, by every act of sin, we not only incur new guilt, 
but we strengthen the bias towards sin, during the whole 
of our subsequent being. Hence every vicious act renders 
our return to virtue more difficult and more hopeless. The 
tendency of such a course is, to give to habit the power 
•which ought to be exerted by our will. And, hence, it 
is not improbable, that the conditions of our being may be 
such, as to allow of our arriving at such a state, that 
reformation may be actually impossible. That the Holy 
Scriptures allude to such a condition during the present 
life, is evident. Such, also, is probably the necessary con- 
dition of the wicked in another world. 

In stating the change thus produced upon our moral 
nature, it deserves to be remarked, that this loss of sensi- 
bility is, probably, only temporary. There is reason to 
believe, that no impressions made upon the human soul, 
during its present probationary state, are ever permanently 
erased. Causes operating merely upon man's physical 
nature, frequently revive whole trains of thought, and even 
the knowledge of languages, which had been totally forgot- 
ten during the greater portion of a long life. This seems 
to show, that the liability to lose impressions, once made 
upon us, depends upon sonje condition arising from our 
material nature only, and that this liability will cease as 
soon as our present mode of existence terminates. That 
is to say, if the power of retaining knowledge is always 
the same, but if our consciousness of Jcnowledge is veiled 



RULES FOR RIOllAL CONDUCT. 79 

by our material organs, \yhen these have been laid aside, 
our entii'e consciousness will retum. Now, indications of 
the same nature are to be found in abundance, with respect 
to conscience. Wicked men, after having spent a life xu 
prosperous giult, and without being in trouble like otiier 
men, are frequently, without any assignable cause, tor- 
mented with all the agonies of remorse ; so that the mere 
consciousness of guilt has become absolutely intolerable, 
and they have perished by derangement, or by suicide. 
The hoiTors of a licentious sinner's death bed, present a 
strikintr illustration of the same solemn fact. A scene of 

o 

this sort has been, no less vividly than accurately, described 
by Dr. Young, in the death of Altamont. All these things 
should be marked by us as solemn warnings. They show 
us of what the constitution, under which we exist, is capa- 
ble ; and it is in forms like these, that the " coming events" 
of eternity "cast their shadows before." 

In such indexes, 

There is seen 
The baby figures of the giant mass 
Of things to come at large. 

Shaks. 



SECTION V. 



RULES FOR MORAL CONDUCT, DERIVED FROM THE PRECEDING 
REMARKS. 



Several plain rules of conduct are suggested by the 
above remarks, which may more properly be introduced 
here, than in any other place. 

I. Before you resolve upon an action, or a course of 
action, 

1. Cultivate the habit of deciding upon its moral char- 
acter. Let the first question always be. Is this action light ? 
For this pui-pose, God gave you this faculty. If you do 
not use it, you are false to yourself, and inexcusable before 
God. We despise a man who never uses his reason, and 



80 RULES FOR MORAX. CONDUCT. 

sCOm him as a fool. Is he not much more to be despised, 
who neglects to use a faculty of so much higher authority 
than reason ? And let the question, Is this right ? be 
nsked Jirst, ^)€-forc imagination has set before us the seduc- 
tions of pleasure, or any step has been taken, which should 
pledge our consistency of character. If we ask this 
question first, it can generally be decided with ease. If 
we wait until the mind is agitated and harassed by con- 
tending emotions, it will not be easy to decide coiTcctly. 

2. Remember thai your conscience has become imper- 
fect, from your frequent abuse of it. Hence, in many 
cases, its discrimination will be indistinct. Instead of decid- 
ing, it will, frequently, only doubt. That doubt should be, 
generally, as imperative as a decision. When you, there- 
fore, doubt, respecting the virtue of an action, do not per 
form it, , unless you as much doubt whether you are at 
liberty to refrain from it. Thus, says President Edwards, 
in one of his resolutions : '' Resolved, never to do any 
thing, of which I so much question the lawfulness, as that 
I intend, at the same time, to consider and examine after- 
wards, whether it be lawful or not ; except I as much ques- 
tion the lawfulness of the omission." 

3. Cultivate, on all occasions, in private or in public, in 
small or great, in action or in thought, the habit of obeying 
the monitions of conscience ; all other things to the con- 
traiy notwithstanding. 

Its slightest touches, instant pause ; 

Debar a' side pretences ; 
And, resolutely, keep its laws, 

Uncaring consequences. 

Burns. 

The supremacy of conscience imposes upon you the obli- 
gation to act thus. You cannot remember, in the course 
of your whole life, an instance in which you regret having 
obeyed it ; and you cannot remember a single instance in • 
which you do not regret having disobeyed it. There can 
nothing happen to you so bad as to have done wrong 
tliere can nothing be gained so valuable as to have done 
right. And remember, that it is only by cultivating the 
oractical supremacy of conscience over every other impulse, 



RULES FOR MORAL CONDUCT. 81 

that you can attain to that bold, simple, manly, elevated 
character, which is essential to true greatness. 

This has been fi-equently taught us, even by the heathen 
poets : 

Virtus, repiilsce nescia sovtlidEe, 
Intaminatis fulget honoribus : 
Nee sumit aut ponit secures 
Arbitrio popularis aurce : 

Virtus, recludens immeritis mori 
Coelum, negata tentat iter via; 
Coetusque vulgares et udam 

Spernit hunium fugiente penna. 

HoR. Lib. 3, Car. 2. 

A greater than a heathen has said, " If thine eye be single, 
thy whole body shall be ilill of light ; " and has enforced 
the precept by the momentous question, " What shall it 
profit a man, though he should gain the whole world, and 
lose his own soul ? or what shall a man give in exchange 
for his soul ? " 

II. After an action has been performed, 

1. Cultivate the habit of reflecting upon your actions, 
and upon the intention with which they have been per- 
foiTOcd, and of thus deciding upon their moral character. 
This is called self-examination. It is one of the most 
important duties in tlie hfe of a moral, and specially of a 
probationary existence. 

'Tis greatly wise, to talk with our past hours, 
And ask them what report they bore to Heaven, 
And how they might have borne more welcome news. 

a. Perform this duty deliberately. It is not the business 
of hurry or of negligence. Devote time exclusively to it. 
Go alone. Retii'e within yourself, and weigh your actions 
coolly and carefully, forgetting all other things, in the con- 
viction that you are a moral and an accountable being. 

b. Do it imjjartiaUy. Remember that you are liable 
to be misled by the seductions of passion, and the allure- 
ments of self-interest. Put yourself in the place of those 
around you, and put others in your own place, and remark 
how you would then consider your actions. Pay great 



82 RULES FOR MORAL CONDUCT. 

attention to the opinions of your enemies : there is generally 
foundation, or, at least, the appearance of it, in wnat they 
say of you. But, above all, take the true and perfect 
standard of moral character, exhibited in the precepts of 
the gospel, and exemplified in the life of Jesus Christ ; and 
thus examine your conduct by the light that emanates from 
the holiness of heaven. 

2. Suppose you have examined yourself, and arrived 
at a decision respecting the moral character of your actions. 

1. If you are conscious of having done right, be thank- 
ful to that God who has mercifully enabled you to do so. 
Observe the peace and serenity which fills your bosom, 
and remark how greatly it overbalances the self-denials 
which it has cost. Be humbly thankful that you have 
made some progress in virtue. 

2. If the character of your actions have been mixed, 
. that is, if they have proceeded from motives partly good 

and partly bad, labor to obtain a clear view of each, and 
of the circumstances which led you to confound them. 
Avoid the sources of this confusion ; and, when you per ■ 
form the same actions again, be specially on your guard 
against the influence of any motive of which you now 
disapprove. 

3. If conscience convicts you of having acted wrongly, 

1. Reflect upon the wrong, survey the obligations which 
you have violated, until you are sensible of your guilt. 

2. Be willing to suffer the pains of conscience. They 
are the rebukes of a friend, and are designed to withhold 
you from the commission of wrong in future. Neither turn 
a neglectful ear to its monitions, nor drown its voice amid 
the bustle of business, or the gayety of pleasure. 

3. Do not let the subject pass away from your thoughts 
until you have come to a settled resolution, a resolution 
founded on moral disapprobation of the action, never to do 
so any more. 

4. If restitution be in your power, make it, without 
hesitation, and do it immediately. The least that a man 
ought to be satisfied with, who has done wrong, is to repair 
(he wrong as soon as it is possible. 

5. As every act of wrong is a sin against God, seek, in hum- 



RULES FOR MORAL CONDUCT. 88 

ble penitence, his pardon, through the merits and interces- 
sion of his Son, Jesus Christ. 

6. Remark the actions, or the courses of thinking, which 
were the occasions of leading you to do wrong. Be 
specially carefiil to avoid them in future. To this effect, 
says President Edwards, " Resolved, that when I do any 
conspicuously evil action, to trace it back, till I come to 
the original cause ; and then both carefully endeavor to do 
so no more, and to fight and pray, with all my might, 
against the original of it." 

7. .Do all this, in humble dependence upon that merciful 
and every where present Being, who is always ready to 
grant us all assistance necessary to keep his commandments , 
and who will never leave us, nor forsake us, if we put oiir 
tmst in him. 

It seems, then, from what has been remarked, that we 
ai-e all endowed with conscience, or a fficulty for discerning 
a moral quality in human actions, impelling us towards 
right, and dissuading us from wrong ; and that the dictates 
of this faculty are felt and known to be of supreme au- 
thority. 

The possession of this faculty renders us accountable 
creatures. Without it, we should not be specially distin- 
guished from the bmtes. With it, we are brought into 
moral relations with God, and all the moral intelligences in 
the universe. 

It is an ever-present faculty. It always admonishes us, 
if we will listen to its voice, and frequently does so, even 
when we wish to silence its warnings. Hence, we may 
always know our duty, if we will but inquire for it. We 
can, therefore, never have any excuse for doing wrong, 
since no man need do wrong, unless he chooses ; and no 
man will do it ignorantly, unless from criminal neglect of 
the faculty which God has given him. 

How solemn is the thought, that we are endowed witli 
such a faculty, and that we can never be disunited from it ! 
•t goes with us through all the scenes of life, in company 
and alone, admonishing, waramg, reproving, and recording ; 
and, as a source of happiness or of misery, it must abide 



84 RUOES FOR MORAL CONDUCT. 

with US for ever. Well doth it become man, then, to rev- 
erence himself. ^ 

And thus we see, that, from his moral constitution, were 
there no other means of knowledge of duty, man is an 
accountable creature. Man is under obligation to obey the 
will of God, in what manner soever signified. That it is 
signified in this manner, I think there cannot be a question ; 
and for this knowledge he is justly held responsible. Thus, 
the Apostle Paul declares, that " the Gentiles, who have 
not the law, are a law unto themselves, which show the 
worlc of the law, luritten on their hearts, their consciences 
being continually excusing or accusing one another." How 
much greater must be the responsibility of those to whom 
God has given tiie additional light of natural and revealed 
religion ! 



85 



CHAPTER THIRD. 

THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. 
SECTION I. 

OF VIRTUE IN GENERAL. 

It has been already remarked, that we find ourselves so 
constituted, as to stand in various relations to all the beings 
around us, especially to our fellow-men, and to God. 
There may be, and there probably are, other beings, to 
whom, by our creation, we are related: but we, as yet, 
have no information on the subject; and we must wait 
until we enter upon another state, before the fact, and the 
manner of the fact, be revealed. 

In consequence of these relations, and either by the 
appointment of God, or from the necessity of the case, — if, 
indeed, these terms mean any thing different from each 
other, — there arise moral obligations to exercise certain affec- 
tions towards other beings, and to act towards them in a 
manner con'esponding to those affections. Thus, we are 
taught in the Scriptures, that the relation in which we 
stand to Deity, involves the obligation to universal and un- 
limited obedience and love ; and that the relation in which 
we stand to each other, involves the obligation to love, 
limited and restricted ; and, of course, to a mode of conduct, 
in all respects, con-espondent to these affections. 

An action is right, when it coiTesponds to these obliga- 
tions, or, which is the same thing, is the canying into effect 
of these affections. It is wrong, when it is in violation of 
these obligations, or is the carrying into effect of any other 
affections. 

By means of our intellect, we become conscious of the 
8 



86 OF VIRTUE IN GENERAL. 

relations in which we stand to the beings with whom we 
are connected. Thus, by the exertion of our intellectual 
faculties, we become acquainted with the existence and 
attributes of God, his power, his wisdom, his goodness , 
and it is by these same faculties, that we understand and 
verify those declarations of the Scriptures, which give us 
additional knowledge of his attributes ; and by which we 
arrive at a knowledge of the conditions of our being, as 
creatures, and also of the various relations in which we 
stand to each other. 

Conscience, as has been remarked, is that faculty by 
which we become conscious of the obligations arising from 
these relations ; by which we perceive the quality of right 
in those actions which coiTcspond to these obligations, and 
of wrong in those actions which violate them; and by 
which we are impelled towards the one, and repelled from 
the other. It is, manifestly, the design of this faculty to 
suggest to us this feeling of obligation, as soon as the rela- 
tions on which it is founded, are understood ; and thus to 
excite in us the corresponding affections. 

Now, in a perfectly constituted moral and intellectual 
being, it is evident, that there would be a perfect adjust- 
ment between these external qualities and the internal 
faculties. A perfect eye is an eye that, under the proper 
conditions, would discern every variety and shade of color, 
in every object which it was adapted to perceive. The 
same remark would apply to our hearing, or to any other 
sense. So, a perfectly constituted intellect would, under 
the proper conditions, discern the relations in which the 
being stood to other beings; and a perfectly constituted 
conscience would, at the same time, become conscious of all 
the obligations which arose from such relations, and would 
impel us to the corresponding courses of conduct. That 
is, there would exist a perfect adaptation between the 
external qualities which were addressed to these faculties, 
and the faculties themselves, to which these qualities were, 
addressed. 

Hence, in a being thus perfectly constituted, it is mani- 
fest, that virtue, the doing of right, or obedience to con 
science, would mean the same thing. 



OF VIRTUE IN GENERAL. 87 

When, however, we speak of the perfection of a morai 
organization, we speak of the perfection of adjustment be- 
tween the faculty of conscience, and the relations and obli- 
gations under which the particular being is coated. Hence, 
this very perfection admits of various gradations and modi- 
fications. For example : 

1. The relations of the same being change, during the 
progi'ess of its existence, from infancy, through childhood 
and manhood, until old age. This change of relations 
involves a change of obligations ; and the perfection of its 
moral organization would consist in the perfect adjustment 
of its moral faculty to its moral relations^ throughout the 
whole course of its history. Now, the tendency of this 
change is, manifestly, frqm less to greater; that is, from 
less imperative to more imperative, and fi^om less numerous 
to more numerous obhgations. That is, the tendency of 
the present system is to render beings more and more capa- 
cious of virtue and of vice, as far as we are permitted to 
have any knowledge of them. 

2. As it is manifestly impossible for us to conceive either 
how numerous, or how important, may be our relations to 
other creatures, in another state, or how much more intimate 
may be the relations in which we shall stand to our Crea- 
tor ; and, as there can be no limit conceived to our power 
of comprehending these relations, nor to our power of be- 
coming conscious of the obligations which they involve ; 
so, it is manifest, that no limit can be conceived to the 
progress of man's capacity for virtue. It evidently contains 
within itself elements adapted to infinite improvement, m 
any state in which we may exist. 

3. And the same may be said of vice. As our obliga- 
tions must, from what we already know, continue to in- 
crease, and our power for recognizing them must also 
continue to increase ; if we perpetually violate them, we 
become more and more capable of wrong ; and thus, also, 
become more and more intensely vicious. And thus, the 
very elements of -a moral constitution, seem to involve the 
necessity of illimitable progress, either in virtue or in vice, 
so long as we exist. 

4. And as, on the one hand, we can have no conception 



88 OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS. 

of the amount of attainment, both in virtue and vice, of 
which man is capable, so, on the other hand, we can have 
no. conception of the dehcacy of that moral tinge by which 
his character is ftrst designated. We detect moral character 
at a very early age ; but this by no means proves, that it 
did not exist long before we detected it. Hence, as it may 
thus have existed before we were able to detect it, it is 
manifest that we have no elements oy which to determine 
the time of its commencement. That is to say, in general, 
we are capable of observing moral qualities within certain 
limits, as from childhood to old age ; but this is no manner 
of indication that these qualities may not exist in the being 
both before, and afterwards, in degrees greatly below and 
infinitely above any thing which we ate capable of ob- 
serving. , 



SECTION II. 

OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS. 

Let US now consider this subject in relation to a being 
whose moral constitution has become disordered. 
Now, this disorder might be of two kinds : 

1. He might not perceive all the relations in which he 
stood, and which gave rise to moral obligations, and, of 
course, would be unconscious of the coiTesponding ooliga 
tions. 

2. He might perceive the relation, but his conscience 
might be so disordered, as not to feel all the obhgation 
which corresponded to it. 

What shall we say concerning the actions of such a 
being ? 

1. The relations under which lie is constituted are the 
same, and the obligations arising out of these relations are 
the same, as though his moral constitution had not become 
disordered. 

2. His actions would all be comprehended under two 
classes : 



OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS. 89 

1. Those which came, if I may so express it, within 
the limit of his conscience ; that is, those in which his 
conscience did coiTectly intimate to him his obUgation ; and, 

2. Those in which it did not so intimate it. 

Now, of the first class of actions, it is manifest that, where 
conscience did correctly intimate to him his obligations, the 
doing- of light, and obedience to conscience, would, as in 
the last section, be equivalent temis. 

But, what shall we say of those without this limit ; that 
is, of those which he, from the conditions of his being, is 
under obligation to perfomi ; but of which, from the de- 
i-angement of his moral nature, he does not perceive the 
obligation ? 

1. Suppose him to perfomi these very actions, there 
could be in them no viitue ; for, the man perceiving in them 
no moral quality, and having towards them no moral im- 
pulsion, moral obligation could be no motive for performing 
them. He might act from passion, or fi-om self-love ; but, 
under such cii'cumstances, as there is no moral motive, 
there could be no praiseworthiness. Thus, for a judge to do 
justice to a poor widow, is manifestly right ; but, a man 
may do this ^^dthout any moral desert ; for, hear what the 
unjust judge saitli : '' Though I fear not God, nor regard 
man, yet, because this ividow troubleth me, I will avenge 
her, lest, by her continual coming, she weary me." 

It does not, however, follow, that the perforaiing of an 
action, in this manner, is innocent. The relatron in which 
a being stands to other beings, involves the obligation to 
certain feelings, as well as to the acts coiTespondent to those 
feelings. If the act be perfonned, and the feeling be 
wanting, the obligation is not frilfilled, and the man may he 
guilty. How far he is guilty will be seen below. 

2. But, secondly, suppose him^ not to perform those ac 
tions, which are, as v/e have said, without the limit of his 
conscience. In how far is the omissitjn of these actions, or 
the doing of the contrary, innocent ? That is to say, is the 
impulse of conscience, in an imperfectly constituted mo7'al 
oeing, the limit of moral obligation ? 

This will, I suppose, depend upon thi follo^ving consid- 
erations : 

8* 



90 OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS. 

1. His knowledge of the relations in which he stands. 

Tf he know not the relations in which he stands to others, 
and have not the means of knowing them, he is guiltless. 
Tf he know them, or have the means of knoiving them, and 
have not improved these means, he is guilty. This is, 1 
think, the principle asserted by the Apostle Paul, in his 
Epistle to the Romans. He asserts, that the heathen are 
guilty in sinning against God, because His attributes may 
be known by the light of nature. He also asserts that 
there will be a difference between the condemnation of the 
Jews and that of the heathen, on the ground that the Jews 
were infonned of many points of moral obligation, which 
the heathen could not have ascertained, without a revela- 
tion : " Those that sin without law, shall perish without law ; 
and those that have sinned in the law, shall be judged 
by the law." 

2. His guilt will depend, secondly, on the cause of this 
imperfection of his conscience. 

Were this imperfection of conscience not the result of his 
own act, he would be guiltless. But, in just so far as it is 
the result of his own conduct, he is responsible. And, 
inasmuch as imperfection of conscience, or diminution of 
moral capacity, can result from nothing but voluntaiy trans- 
gression ; I suppose that he must be answerable for the 
whole amount of that imperfection. We have already seen, 
that conscience may be improved by use, and injured by 
disuse, or by abuse. Now, as a man is entitled to all the 
benefits which accrue from the faithful improvement of hi 5 
conscience, so he is responsible for all the injury that results 
from the abuse of it. 

That this is the fact, is, I think, evident, from obvious 
considerations : 

^ 1. It is well known, that the repetition of wickedness 
prcduces great stupidity of conscience, or, as it is frequently 
termed, hardness of heart. But no one ever considers this 
stupidity as in any manner an excuse. It is, on the con- 
trary, always held to be an aggravation of crime. Thus, 
we term a man, who has become so accustomed to crime, 
that he will commit murder without feeling and without 
regret, a remorseless murderer, a cold-blooded assassin ; and 



OF VinrUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS. 91 

every one knows that, by these epithets, we mean to des- 
ignate a special and additional element of guiltiness. This 
I take to be the universal sentiment of man. 

2. The assertion of the contraiy would lead to results 
manifestly eiToneous. 

Suppose two men, of precisely the same noral attain- 
ments, to-day, to commence, at the same time, two courses 
of conduct, diametrically opposed to each other. The first, 
by the scmpulous doing of right, cultivates, to the utmost, 
his moral nature, and increases, with every day, his capa- 
city for virtue. The sphere of his benevolent affections en- 
larges, and the play of his moral feelings becomes more 
and more intense, until he is filled with the most ardent 
desire to promote the welfare of every fellow-creature, and 
to do the will of God with his whole heart. The other, by 
a continued course of crime, gradually destroys the sus- 
ceptibility of his conscience, and lessens his capacity for 
virtue, until his soul is filled with hatred to God, and no 
other feeling of obligation remains, except that of fidelity to 
his copartnei-s in guilt. 

Now, at the expiration of this period, if both of these men 
should act according to what each felt to be the dictate of 
conscience, they would act very differently. But, if a man 
can be under obligation to do, and to leave undone, nothing 
but what his conscience, at a particular moment, indicates, 
I do not see but that these men would be, in the actions of 
that moment, equally innocent. The only difference be- 
tween them, so far as the actions of a particular moment 
were cqncemed, would be the difference between a ^artuous 
man and a virtuous child. ^^-- 

From these facts, we are easily led to the distinction be- 
tween right and lurong, and innocence and guilt. Right 
and wrong depend upon the relations under which beings 
are created ; and, hence, the obligations resulting from these 
relations are, in their nature, fixed and unchangeable. 
Guilt and innocence depend upon the knowledge of these 
relations, and of the obligations arising from them. As 
these are manifestly susceptible of variation, while right 
and wrong are invariable, the two notions may manifestly 
not always oarrespond to each other. 



92 OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT IJEINGS. 

Thus, for example, an action may be wrong ; but, if the 
actor have no means of knowing it to be wrong, he is held 
morally guiltless, in the doing of it. Or, again, a man may 
have a consciousness of obligation, and a sincere desire to 
act in conformity to it; and may, from ignorance of the 
way in which that obligation is to be discharged, perform 
an act in its nature wrong ; yet, if he have acted according 
to the hest of his possible Tcjiowledge, he may not only be 
held guiltless, but even virtuous. And, on the contrary, il 
a man do what is actually right, but without a desire to 
fulfil the obligation of which he is conscious, he is held to 
be guilty; for he has not manifested a desire to act in 
obedience to the obligations under which he knew himself 
to be created. Illustrations of these remarks may be easily 
drawn from the ordinary affairs of life, or from the Scriptures. 

And, hence, we also arrive at another principle, of impor- 
tance in our moral judgments, namely, that our own con- 
sciousness of innocence, or our not being conscious of guilt, 
is by no means a sufficient proof of our innocence. A man 
may never have reflected on the relations in which he 
stands to other men, or to God ; and, hence, may be con- 
scious of no feehng of obligation toward either, in any or in 
particular respects. This may be the fact ; but his inno- 
cence would not be established, unless he can also show 
that he has faithfully and impartially used all the powers 
which God has given him, to obtain a knowledge of these 
relations. Or, again, he may understand the relation, and 
have no corresponding sensibility. This may be the fact ; 
but his innocency would not be established, unless .he can 
also show that he has always faithfully and honestly obeyed 
his conscience, so that his moral insensibility is, in no man- 
ner, attributable to his own acts. Until these things can 
be shown, the want of consciousness of guilt will be no 
proof of innocence. To this principle, if I mistake not, the 
Apostle Paul alludes, in 1 Cor. iv. 3,4: " But with me, it 
is a very small thing to be judged of you, or of man's judg- 
ment: yea, I judge not my ownself, for I know nothing 
of my ownself (or, rather, I am conscious of nothing wrong 
in myself; that is, of no unfaithfulness in olhce) ; yet, am 
I not hereby justified : but he that judgeth me is the Lord." 



OF VIRTUE IN IMPERI^ECT BEINGS. 93 

And, thus, a man may do great wrong, and be deeply 
guilty, in respect to a whole class of obligations, without 
being, in any painful degree, sensible of it. Such I think 
to be the moral state in which men, in general, are, in 
respect to their obligations to God. Thus, saith our Savior 
to the Jews : " 1 know you, that ye have not the love of 
God in you ; " while they were supposing themselves to 
be the special favorites of Heaven, 

From these remarks, we may also learn the relation in 
which beings, created as we are, stand to moral law. 

Man is created with moral and intellectual powers, capa- 
ble of progressive improvement. Hence, if he use his 
faculties as he ought, he will progressively improve ; that 
is, become more and more capable of virtue. He is assured 
of enjoying all the benefits which can result from such 
improvement. If he use these faculties as he ought not, 
and become less and less capable of virtue, he is hence held 
responsible for all the consequences of his misimprovement. 

Now, as this misimprovement is his own act, for which 
he is responsible, it manifestly does not affect the relations 
under which he is created, nor the obligations resulting fi:om 
these relations ; that is, he stands, in respect to the moral 
requirements under which he is created, precisely in the 
same condition as if he had always used his moral powers 
con-ectly. That is to say, under the present moral consti- 
tution, every man is justly held responsible, at every period 
of his existence, for that degree of virtue of which he would 
have been capable, had he, from the first moment of his 
existence, improved his moral nature, in eveiy respect, just 
as he ought to have done. In other words, suppose some 
human being to have always lived thus, (Jesus Christ, for 
nstance,) every man, supposing him to have the same means 
of knowing his duty, would, at every successive period of his 
existence, be held responsible for the same degree of virtue 
as such a perfect being attained to, at the corresponding 
periods of his existence. Such I think evidently to be the 
nature of the obligation which must rest upon such beings, 
throughout the whole extent of their duration. 

In order to meet this increasing responsibility, in such a 
manner as to fulfil the requirements of moral law, a being 



94 OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS 

under such a constitution, must, at every moment of his 
existence, possess a moral faculty, which, by perfect previ- 
ous cultivation, is adapted to the responsibilities of that 
particular moment. But, suppose this not to have been 
the case ; and that, on the contrary, his moral faculty, by 
once doing wrong, has become impaired, so that it either 
does not admonish him correctly of his obligations, or that 
he has become indisposed to obey its monitions. This 
must, at the next moment, terminate in action more at 
variance with rectitude than before. The adjustment be- 
tween conscience and the passions, must become deranged ; 
and thus, the tendency, at every successive moment, must 
be, to involve him deeper and deeper in guilt. And, unless 
some other moral force be exerted in the case, such must 
be the tendency for ever. 

And suppose some such force to be exerted, and, at an} 
period of his existence, the being to begin to obey his con- 
science in every one of its present monitions. It is mani- 
fest, that he would now need some other and more perfect 
guide, in order to inform him perfectly of his obligations, 
and of the mode in which they were to be fulfilled. And, 
supposing this to be done : as he is at this moment respon- 
sible for such a Capacity for virtue, as would have been 
attained by a previously perfect rectitude, ; and as his capa- 
city is inferior to this ; and as no reason can be suggested, 
why his progress in virtue should, under these circum- 
stances, be more rapid than that of a perfect being, but the 
contrary ; it is manifest, that he must ever fall short of what 
is justly required of him, — ^nay, that he must be continually 
falling farther and farther behind it. 

And hence, the present constitution tends to show us 
the remediless nature of moral evil, under the government 
of God, unless some other principle, than that of law, be 
admitted into the case. These conditions of being having 
been violated, unless man be placed under some other con- 
ditions, natural religion would lead us to believe, that he 
must suffer the penalty, whatever it be, of wrong. Peni- 
tence could in no manner alter his situation ; for it is merely 
a temper justly demanded, in consequence of bis sin. But 
this could not replace him in his original relation to the law 



OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS. 95 

which had been violated. Such seems to be the teachings 
of the Holy Scriptures ; and they seem to me to declare, 
moreover, that this change in the conditions of our being, 
has been accomplished by the mediation of a Redeemer, 
by which change of conditions we may, through the 
obedience of another, be justified (that is, treated as though 
just), although we are, by confession, guilty. 

And hence, although it were shown that a man was, at 
any particular penod of his being, incapable of that degree 
of virtue which the law of God required, it would neither 
follow that he was not under obligation to exercise it, nor 
that he was not responsible for the whole amount of that 
exercise of it ; since, if he have dwarfed his own powers, 
he is responsible for the result. And, conversely, if God 
require this whole amount of virtue, it \%iil not prove that 
man is now capable of exercising it ; but only, that he is 
either thus capable, or, that he would have been so, if he 
had used coiTectly the powers which God gave him. 

A few suggestions respecting the moral relations of habit, 
vAW close this discussion. >; 

Some of the most important facts respecting habit, are 
the following : 

It is found to be the fact, that the repetition of any 
physical act, at stated periods, and especially after brief 
intervals, renders the perforaiance of the act easier ; it is 
accomplished in less time, with less effort, with less ex- 
pense of nerv^ous power, and of mental energy. This is 
exemplified, eveiy day, in the acquisition of the mechan- 
ical arts, and in learning the rudiments of music. And 
whoever will remark, may easily be convinced, that a great 
part of our education, physical and intellectual, in so far as 
it is valuable, consists in the fomiation of habits. 

The same remarks apply, to a veiy considerable extent, 
to moral habits. 

The repetition of a virtuous act produces a tendency to 
continued repetition ; the force of opposing motives is les- 
sened ; the power of the will over passion is more decided ; 
and the act is accomplished with less moral effort. Perhaps 
we should express the fact truly, by saying, that, by the 
repetition of virtuous acts, moral power is gained ; while 



96 OF VIIITUE IN "^ IMPERFECT BEINGS. 

for the perfomiance of the same acts, less moral power is 
requh'ed. 

On the contrary, by the repetition of vicious acts, a 
tendency is created towards such repetition ; the power of 
the passions is increased ; the power of opposing forces is 
diminished; and the resistance to passion requires a greater 
moral effort ; or, as in the contrary of the preceding case, 
a greater moral effort is required to resist our passions, 
while the moral power to resist them is diminished. 

Now, the obvious nature of such a tendency is, to arrive 
at a fixed and unalterable moral state. Be the fact 
accounted for as it may, I think that habit has an effect 
upon the will, such as to establish a tendency towards the 
impossibility to resist it. Thus, the practice of virtue 
seems to tend towards rendering a man incapable of vice, 
and the practice of vice towards rendering a man incapa- 
ble of virtue. It is common to speak of a man as incapa- 
ble of meanness ; and I think we see men as often, in the 
same sense, incapable of virtue. And, if I mistake not, 
we always speak of the one incapacity as an object of 
praise, and of the other as an object of blame. 

If we inquire, what are the moral effects of such a con- 
dition of our being, I think we shall find them to be as 
follows : 

1. Habit cannot alter the nature of an action, as right 
or wrong. It can alter neither our relations to our fellow- 
creatures, nor to God, nor the obligations consequent upon 
those relations. Hence, the character of the action must 
remain unaffected. 

2. Nor can it alter the guilt or innocence of the action. 
As he who acts virtuously, is entided to the benefit of 
virtuous action, among which the tendency to virtuous 
action is included ; so, he who acts viciously, is responsi- 
ble for all the consequences of vicious action, the corre- 
spondent tendency to vicious action also included. The 
conditions being equal, and he being left to his own free 
choice, the consequences of either course rest justly upon 
himself. 

The final causes of such a constitution are also apparent. 
1. It is manifestly and precisely adapted to our present 



OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS. 97 

Ftate, when considered as probationary, and capable of 
moral changes, and temiinating in one where moral change 
is impossible. The constitution under which we are place^^., 
presents us with the apparent paradox of a state of ince« 
sant moral change, in which every individual change h^ 
a tendency to produce a state that is unchangeable. 

2. The fact of such a constitution is, manifestly, in 
tended to present the strongest possible incentives to virtue 
and monitions against vice. It teaches us that conse 
quences are attached to every act of both, not only present 
but future, and, so far as we can see, intenninable. As 
every one can easily estimate the pleasures of vice and 
the pams of virtue, both in extent and duration ; but, as 
no one, taking into consideration the results of the ten- 
dency which each will produce, can estimate the intemii- 
nable consequences which must arise from either, — there is, 
therefore, hence derived the strongest possible reason, why 
we should always do right, and never do wrong. 

3. And again. It is evident, that our capacity for in- 
crease in virtue, depends greatly upon the present constitu- 
tion, in respect to habit. I have remarked, that the effect 
of the repetition of virtuous action, was to give us greater 
moral power, while the given action itself required less 
moral effort. There, hence, arises, if I may so say, a 
surplus of moral power, which may be applied to the accom- 
plishment of greater moral achievements. He who has 
ov^ercome one evil temper, has acquired moral power to 
overcome another; and that which was first subdued, is 
kept in subjection without a struggle. He who has formed 
one habit of virtue practises it, without effort, as a matter 
of coui-se, or of original impuls3 ; and the power thus 
acquired, may be applied to the attainment of other and 
more difficult habits, and the accomplishment of higher 
and more arduous moral enterprises. He who desires to 
see the influence of habit illustrated, with great beauty and 
accuracy, will be gratified by the perusal of " The Hermit 
of Teneriffe," one of the most delightful allegories to be 
found in the English language. 

The relation between the moral and the intellectual 



98 OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFFi T BEINGS. 

powers, in tlie moral conditions of our being, may be thus 
briefly stated : 

1. We are created under certain relations to our Creator, 
and to our fellow-creatures. 

2. We are created under certain obligations to our 
Creator, and our fellow-creatures, in consequence of these 
relations, — obligations to exercise certain affections, and to 
maintain coui-ses of action correspondent to those affections. 

3. By means of our intellectual powers, we perceive 
these relations. 

4. By means of our moral powers, we become conscious 
of these obligations. 

5. The consciousness of these obligations alone, would 
not always teach us how they were to be discharged ; as, 
for example, the consciousness of our obligations to God, 
would not teach us how God should be worshipped, and 
so in various other cases. It is by the use of the powers 
of our intellect, that we learn how these moral affections 
are to be carried into action. The use of the intellect is, 
therefore, twofold. First, to discover to us our relations. 
Secondly, to discover in what manner our obligations are to 
be discharged. 



99 



CHTAPTER FOURTH 



HUMAN HAPPINESS. 



We have already, on several occasions, alluded to the 
fact, that God has created every thing double ; a world 
without us, and a correspondent world within us. He has 
made light without, and the eye within; beauty without, 
and taste within ; moral qualities in actions, and conscience 
to judge of them ; and so of every other case. By means 
of this con*espondence, our communication with the external 
world exists. 

These internal powers are called into exercise by the 
presence of their correspondent external objects. Thus, the 
organ of vision is excited by the presence of hght, the sense 
of smell by odors, the faculty of taste by beauty or by deform- 
ity, and so of the rest. 

The fii-st effect of this exercise of these faculties is, that 
we are conscious of the existence and qualities of surround- 
ing objects. Thus, by sight, we become conscious of the 
existence and colors of visible objects ; by hearing, of the 
existence and sound of audible objects, &c. 

But, it is manifest, that this knowledge of the existence 
and qualities of external objects is far from being all the 
intercourse which we are capable of holding with them. 
This knowledge of their existence and qualities is, most 
frequently, attended with pleasure or pain, desire or aver- 
sion. Sometimes the mere perception itself is immediate- 
ly pleasing ; in other cases, it is merely the sign of some 
other quality which has the power of pleasing us. In the 
first case, the perception produces gratification ; in the other, 
it awakens desire. 

That is, we stand in such relations to the external world, 
that certain objects, besides being capable of being per- 
ceived, are also capable of giving us pleasure ; and certain 



100 HUMAN HAPPINESS. 

Other objects, besides being perceived, are capable of giving 
us pain. Or, to state the same truth in the other fonn, we 
are so made as to be capable, not only of perceiving, but 
also of being pleased with, or pained by, the various objects 
by which we are surrounded. 

This general power of being pleased or pained, may be, 
and I think frequently is, termed sensitiveness. 

This sensitiveness, or the power of being made happy by 
suiTounding objects, is intimately connected with the exer- 
cise of our various faculties. Thus, the pleasure of vision 
cannot be enjoyed in any other manner, than by the exer- 
cise of the faculty of sight. The pleasure of knowledge can 
be enjoyed in no other way, than by the exercise of the in- 
tellectual powers. The pleasure of beauty can be enjoyed 
in no other manner, than by the exercise of the faculty of 
taste, and of the other subordinate faculties on which this 
faculty depends. And thus, in general, our sensitiveness 
derives pleasure from the exercise of those powers ivhich are 
made necessary for our existence and well-being in our 
present state. 

Now, I think that we can have no other idea of happi- 
ness than the exercise of this sensitiveness upon its cor- 
responding objects and qualities. It is the gratification of 
desire, the enjoyment of what we love ; or, as Dr. John- 
son remarks, " Happiness consists in the multiplication of 
agreeable consciousness." 

It seems, -moreover, evident, that this very constitution is 
to us an indication of the will of our Creator ; that is, inas- 
much as he has created us with these capacities for happi- 
ness, and has also created objects around us precisely 
adapted to these capacities, he meant that the one should oe 
exercised upon the other ; that is, that we should be made 
happy in this manner. 

And this is more evident, from considering that this hap- 
piness is intimately connected with the exercise of tliosc 
faculties, the employment of which is necessary to our ex 
istence and our well-being. It thus becomes the incitexAe^* 
to or the reward of certain courses of conduct, which it i* 
necessary, to our own welfare, or to that of society^- ih?t 
we should pursue. 



HUMAN HAPPINESS. 101 

And thus we anive at the general principle, that our 
desii-e for a particulai' object, and the existence of the object 
adapted to this desire, is, in itself, a reason why we should 
enjoy that object, in the same manner as our aversion to 
another object, is a reason why we should avoid it. There 
may sometimes be, it is true, other reasons to the contrary, 
more authoritative than that emanating from this desh'e or 
aversion, and these may and ought to control it ; but this 
does not show that this desire is not a reason, and a suffi- 
cient one, if no better reason can be shown to the contrary. 

But, if we consider the subject a little more minutely, we 
shall find that the simple gratification of desire, in the man- 
ner above stated, is not the only condition on which our 
happiness depends. 

We find, by experience, that a desire or appetite may be 
so gratified as for ever afterwards to destroy its power of 
producing happiness. Thus, a certain kind of food is 
pleasant to me ; this is a reason why I shoirid partake of it. 
But I may eat of it to excess, so as to loathe it for ever 
aftenvards, and thus annihilate, in my constitution, this 
mode of gratification. Now, the same reasoning which 
proves that God intended me to partake of this food, 
namely, because it will promote my happiness, also proves 
that he did not intend me to partake of it after this manner ; 
for, by so doing, I have diminished, by this whole amount, 
my capacity for happiness, and thus defeated, in so far, the 
very end of my constitution. Or, again, though I may not 
destroy my desire for a particular kind of food, by a partic- 
ular manner of gratification, yet I may so derange my 
system, that the eating of it shall produce pain and distress, 
so that it ceases to be to me a source of happiness, upon 
the whole. In this case, I equally defeat the design of my 
constitution The result equally shows that, although the 
Creator means that I should eat it, he does not mean that 
I should eat it in this manner. 

Again, every man is created with various and dissimilar 
forms of desire, coiTespondent to the different external 
objects designed to promote his happiness. Now, it is 
found that one form of desire may be gratified in such a 
cianner, as to destroy the power of receiving happiness from 
9* 



102 HUMAN HAPPINESS. 

another ; or, on the contrary, the fii-st may be so gratified 
as to leave the other powers of receiving happiness unim 
paired. Since, then, it is granted that these were all given 
us for the same end, namely, to promote our happiness, if 
by the first manner of gratification, we destroy another 
power of gratification, while, by the second manner of 
gratification, we leave the other power of gratification unin- 
jured, it is evidently the design of our Creator that we 
should limit ourselves to this second mode of gratification. 

Thus, I am so foiTned that food is pleasant to me. This, 
even if there were no necessity for eating, is a reason why 
I should eat it. But I am also formed with a desire for 
knowledge. This is a reason why I should study in order 
to obtain it. That is, God intended me to derive happi- 
ness from both of these sources of gratification. If, then, I 
eat in such a manner that I cannot study, or study in such 
a manner that I cannot eat, in either case, I defeat his 
design concerning me, by destroying those sources of hap- 
piness with which he ha.? created me. The same principle 
might be illustrated in various other instances. 

Again, we find that the indulgence of any one form of 
gratification, in such manner as to destroy the power of 
another form of gratification, also in the end diminishes, and 
frequently destroys, the power of deriving happiness, even 
firom that which is indulged. Thus, he who eats so as to 
injure his power of intellectual gratification, injures also his 
digestive organs, and produces disease, so that his pleasure 
from eating is diminished. Or, he who studies so as to 
destroy his appetite, in the end destroys also his power of 
study. This is another and distinct reason, to show, that, 
while I am designed to be happy by the gratification of my 
desires, I am also designed to be happy by gratifying them 
within a limit. The limit to gratification enters into my 
constitution, as a being designed for happiness, just as much 
as the power of gratification itself. 

And again, our Creator has endowed us with an addi- 
tional and superior power, by which we can contemplate 
these two courses of conduct ; by which we can approve 
of the one, and disapprove of the other ; and by which the 
one becomes a source of pleasure and the other a source of 



HUMAN HAPPINESS. 103 

pain ; both being separate and distinct from the sources of 
pain and pleasure mentioned above. And, moreover, he 
has so constituted us, that this very habit of regulating and 
limiting our desires, is absolutely essential to our success in 
eveiy undertaking. Bodi of these are, therefore, additional 
and distinct reasons for believing, that the restriction of our 
desii'es within certain limits, is made, by our Creator, as 
clearly necessaiy to our happiness, as the indulgence of 
them. 

All this is true, if we consider the happiness of man 
merely as an individual. But the case is rendered still 
stronger, if we look upon man as a society. It is manifest 
that the universal gi'atification of any single appetite or 
passion, without limit, not to say the gratification of all, 
would, in a very few years, not only destroy society, but 
absolutely put an end to the whole human race. And, 
hence, we see that the limitation of our desu'es is not only 
necessary to our happiness, but also to our existence. 

Hence, while it is the truth, that human happiness con- 
sists in the gratification of our desires, it is not the whole 
truth, . It consists in the gratification of our desires ivithin 
the limits assigned to them by our Creator. And, the 
happiness of that man will be the most perfect, who regu 
lates his desires most perfectly in accordance with the 
laws under which he has been created. And, hence, the 
greatest happiness of which man is, in his present state, 
capable, is to be attained by confonning his whole conduct 
to the laws of virtue, that is, to the will of God. 



104 



CHAPTER FIFTH 



OF SELF-LOVE. 



By the term sensitiveness, I have designated the capacity 
of our nature to derive happiness from the various objects 
and quahties of the world around us. Though intimately 
associated with tiTose powers by which we obtain a knowl- 
edge of external objects, it differs from them. When a 
desire for gratification is excited by its appropriate objects, 
it is teraied appetite, passion, &:c. 

As our means of gratification are various, and are also 
attended by different effects, there is evidently an opportu- 
nity for a choice between them. By declining a gratifica- 
tion at present, we may secure one of greater value at some 
future time. That which is, at present, agreeable, may be 
of necessity followed by pain ; and that which is, at pres 
ent, painful, may be rewarded by pleasure which shall far 
overbalance it. 

Now, it must be evident, to every one who will reflect^ 
that my happiness, at any one period of my existence, is 
just as valuable as my happiness at the present period. 
No one can conceive of any reason, why the present mo- 
ment should take the precedence, in any respect, of any 
other moment of my being. Every moment of my past 
life was once present, and seemed of special value ; but, in 
the retrospect, all seem, so far as the happiness of each is 
concerned, of equal value. Each of those to come may, 
m its tum, claim some pre-eminence ; though, now, we 
plainly discover in anticipation, that no one is more thai: 
another entitled to it. Nay, if there be any difference, it is 
manifestly in favor of the most distant future, in comparison 
with the present. The longer we exist, the greater is our 
capacity for virtue and happiness, and the wider is our 
sphere of existence. To postpone the present for the 



OF SELF-LOVE. 105 

future, seems, therefore, to be the dictate of wisdom, if we 
cahnly consider the condition of our being. 

But, it is of the nature of passion, to seize upon the 
present gratification, utterly irrespective of consequences, 
and utterly regardless of other or more excellent gratifica- 
tions, which may be obtained by self-denial. He whose 
passions are inflamed, looks at nothing beyond the present 
gratification. Hence, he is liable to seize upon a present 
enjoyment, to the exclusion of a much more valuable one 
in future, and even in such a manner as to entail upon 
himself poignant and remediless misery. And, hence, in 
order to be enabled to enjoy all the happiness of which his 
present state is capable, the sensitive part of man needs to 
be combined with another, which, upon a comparison of 
the present with the future, shall impel him towards thai 
mode either of gratification or of self-denial, which shall 
most promote his happiness upon the whole. 

Such is self-love. We give this name to that part of 
our constitution, by which we are incited to do or to for 
bear, to gratify or to deny our desires simply on die ground 
of obtaining the greatest amount of happiness for ourselves, 
taking into view a limited future, or else our entire future 
existence. When we act from simple respect to present 
gratification, we act from passion. When we act from a 
respect to our whole individual happiness, without regard 
to the present, only as it is a part of the whole, and with 
out any regard to the happiness of others, only as it will 
contribute to our own, we are then said to act from self- 
love. 

The difference between these two modes of impulsion 
may be easily illustrated. 

Suppose a man destitute of self-love, and actuated only 
by passion. He would seize without reflection, and enjoy 
widiout limit, every object of gratification which the present 
moment might offer, without regard to its value in compar- 
ison widi others, which might be secured by self-denial, and 
without any regard to the consequences which might follow 
present pleasure, be they ever so disastrous. 

On the contrary, we may imagine a being destitute of 



106 OF SELF-LOVE. 

passions, and impelled only by self-love ; that is, by a desire 
for his own happiness, on the whole. In this case, so far 
as I see, he would never act at all. Having no desires to 
gratify, there could be no gratification ; and, hence, there 
could be no happiness. Happiness is the result of the 
exercise of our sensitiveness upon its corresponding objects. 
But we have no sensitiveness which corresponds to any 
object in ourselves ; nor do ourselves present any object to 
correspond to such sensitiveness. Hence, the condition of a 
being, destitute of passions, and actuated only by self-love, 
would be an indefinite and most painful longing after hap- 
piness, without the consciousness of any relation to external 
objects which could gratify it. Nor is this an entirely 
imaginary condition. In cases of deep melancholy, and 
of fixed hypochondria, tending to derangement, I think 
every one must have observed in others, and he is happy 
if he have not experienced in himself, the tendencies to 
precisely such a state. The very power of affection, or 
sensitiveness, seems paralyzed. This state of mind has, I 
think, been ascribed to Hamlet by Shakspeare, in the fol- 
lowing passage : 

" I have, of late (but wherefore I know not), lost all 
my mirth, foregone all custom of exercises ; and, indeed, it 
goes so heavily with my dispositions, that this goodly frame, 
the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory ; this most 
excellent canopy, the air — look you — this brave overhang- 
ing firmament ; this majestical roof, fretted with golden 
fire ; why, it appears no other thing to me, than a foul and 
pestilent congregation of vapors. Man delights me not, 
nor woman neither, though by your smiHng you seem to 
say so." — Hamlet, Act ii, Sc. 2. 

It would seem, therefore, that self-love is not, in itself, 
a faculty, or part of our constitution, in itself, productive 
of happiness ; but rather an impulse, which, out of several 
forms of gratification which may be presented, inclines us 
to select that which will be the most for our happiness, 
considered as a whole. This seems the more evident, from 
the obvious fact, that a man, actuated by the most zealous 
self-love, derives no more happiness from a given gratifica* 



OF SELF-LOVE. 107 

lion, than any other man. His pleasure, in any one act of 
enjoyment, is not in the ratio of his self-love, but of liis 
sensitiveness. 

From these remarks, we can easily detemaine the rank 
vo which self-love is entitled. 

1. Its rank is superior to that of passion. As our hap- 
piness, as a whole, is of more consequence than the happi- 
aess of any separate moment, so the faculty which impels 
ds towards our happiness upon the whole, was manifestly 
intended to control that which impels toward our happiness 
for a moment. If happmess be desirable, the greatest 
amount of it is most desirable ; and, as we are provided 
with a constitution, by which we are forewarned of the 
difference, and impelled to a correct choice, it is the design 
of our Creator that we should obey it. 

2. Its rank is inferior to that of conscience. We are 
made not only sensitive beings, that is, beings capable of 
happiness, but also moral beings, that is, beings capable of 
virtue. The latter is manifestly the most important object 
of our being, even in so far as our own happiness is con- 
cerned ; for, by the practice of virtue, without respect to 
our own temporal happiness, we secure our moral happi- 
ness, the most valuable of any of which even at the present 
we are capable ; while, by acting for own happiness, when 
these seem to come into competition, we lose that which is 
most valuable, and can be by no means certain of obtain- 
ing the other. That is to say, when our own happiness 
and our duty seem to come into colhsion, we are bound to 
discard the consideration of our own happiness, and to do 
what we believe to be right. 

This may be illustrated by an example. 

Suppose that two courses of action are presented to our 
choice. The one, so far as we can see, will promote our 
individual happiness ; the other will fulfil a moral obligation. 
Now, in this case we may act in either of these ways : 

1. We may seek our own happiness, and violate our 
obligations. In tliis case, we certainly lose the pleasure of 
virtue, and suffer the pain of remorse, while we must be 
uncertain whether we shall obtain the object of our desires. 



108 OF SELF-LOVE. 

2. We may perform the act which conscience indicates, 
but from our self-love as a motive. Here, we shall gain 
whatever reward, by the constitution under which we are 
placed, belongs to the action ; but we lose the pleasure of 
virtue. 

3. We may perform the act indicated by conscience, 
and from the simple impulse of duty. In this case, we 
obtain every reward which could be obtained in the pre- 
ceding case, and, in addition, are blessed with the appro- 
bation of conscience. Thus, suppose I deliberate whether 
I shall spend a sum of money in self-gratification, or else 
in an act of benevolence, which is plainly my duty. If 
I pursue the former course, it is very uncertain whether 
I actually secure the gratification which I seek, while 
I lose the pleasure of rectitude, and am saddened by 
the pains of remorse. The pleasure of gratification is 
soon over, but the pain of guilt is enduring. Or, again, 
I may perfoiTn the act of benevolence from love of ap- 
plause, or some modification of self-love. I here obtain 
with more certainty the reputation which I seek, but lose 
the reward of conscious virtue. Or, thirdly, if I do the 
act without any regard to my own happiness, and simply 
from love to God and man, I obtain all the rewards which 
attach to the action by the constitution under which I am 
placed, and also enjoy the higher rewards of conscious 
rectitude. 

This subordination of motives seems clearly to be re 
ferred to by our Savior: ^' There is no man, that hath 
left house, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or 
wife, or children, or lands, for my sake and the gosjfeVs, 
but he shall receive an hundred fold now, in this time, and, 
in the world to come, hfe everlasting." That is to say, a 
man does not obtain the reward of virtue, even in self- 
denial, unless he disregard the consideration of himself, and 
act from simple love to God. To the same purport is the 
often repeated observation of our Savior : " Whosoever will 
save his life shall lose it ; and whosoever will lose his life, 
for my sake, shall find it." There are many passages of 
Scripture which seem to assert, that the very turning-point 



OF SKLF-LOVK. 1 09 

of moral character, so far as our relations to God are con- 
cerned, consists in yielding up the consideration of our own 
happiness, as a controlling motive, and subjecting it, with- 
out reserve, to the higher motive, the simple will of God. 
If these remarks be tine, we see, 

1 . That, when conscience speaks, the voice of self-Iovo 
must be silent. That is to say, we have no right to seek 
our owm happiness in any manner at variance with moral 
obligation. Nevertheless, fi'om several courses of action, 
either of which is innocent, we are at liberty to choose that 
which will most conduce to our own happiness. In such 
a case, the consideration of our happiness is justly ultimate. 

2. The preceding chapter has shown us that man was 
designed to be made happy by the gratification of his de- 
sires. The present chapter teaches us, that, when the 
gratification of desire is at variance with virtue, a greater 
happiness is to be obtained by self-denial. Or in other 
words, our greatest happiness is to be obtained, not by the 
various modes of self-gi*atification, but by simply seeking 
the good of others, and in doing the will of God, from the 
heart. 

3. And, hence, we may amve at the general principle, 
that every impulse or desire is supreme tvithin its own 
assigned limits ; but that, when a lower comes into compe- 
tition with a higher impulsion, the inferior accomplishes its 
own object most perfectly, by being wholly subject to the 
superior. Thus, desire, or the love of present gratification, 
may, within its own limits, be indulged. But, when this 
present gratification comes into competition with self-love, 
even passion accomplishes its own object best ; that is, a 
man actually attains to more enjoyment, by submitting 
present desire implicitly to self-love. And so self-love is 
ultimate within its proper limits ; but when it comes into 
competition with conscience, it actually accomplishes its* 
owTi object best, by being entirely subject to that which 
the Creator has constituted its superior. 

4. The difierence between self-love, as an innocent part 
of our constitution, and selfishness, a vicious disposition, 
may be easily seen. Self-love properly directs our choice 

10 



1 10 OF SELF-LOVE. 

of objects, where both are equally innocent. Selfishness is 
a similar disposition to promote our o vn happiness, upon 
the whole: but it disposes us to seek it in objects over 
which we have no just control ; that is, which are not inno- 
cent, and which we could not enjoy, v bout violating oui 
duties, either to God or to our neighbor 



Ill 



CHAPTER SIXTH 



IMPBRFECTION OP CONSCIENCE, NECESSITY OF SOME ADDITION- 
AL MORAL LIGHT. 

It has been already remarked, that a distinction may be 
very clearly observed between right and wrong, and guilt 
and innocence. Right and wrong depend upon the rela- 
tions under which we are created, and the obligations re- 
sulting from them, and are in their nature immutable. Guilt 
and innocence have respect to the mdividuai, and are 
modified, moreover, by the amount of his knowledge of 
his duty, and are not decided solely by the fact that the 
action was or was not performed. 

It is, moreover, to be observed, that the results of these 
two attributes of actions may be seen to differ. Thus, every 
nght action is followed, in some way, with pleasure or 
benefit to the individual ; and every wrong one, by pain or 
discomfort, irrespective of the guilt or innocence of the 
author of the act. Thus, in the present constitution of 
things, it is evident that a nation which had no knowledge 
of the wickedness of murder, revenge, uncleanness, or theft, 
would, if it violated the moral law in these respects, suffer 
the consequences which are attached to these actions by our 
Creator. And, on the contrary, a nation which practised 
forgiveness, mercy, honesty, and purity, without knowing 
them to be right, would enjoy the benefits which are con- 
nected with such actions. 

Now, whatever be the object of this constitution, by 
which happiness or misery are consequent upon actions as 
right or wrong, whether it be as a monition, or to inform 
us of the will of God concerning us, one thing seems evi- 
dent, — it is not to punish actions as innocent or guilty: 
for the happiness or misery of which we speak, affect men 



1 1 2 OIPERFECTION OF CONSCIENCE. 

Simply in consequence of the action, and without any re- 
gard to the innocence or guilt of the actor. 

Let us now add another element. Suppose a man to 
know the obligations which bind him to his Creator ; and, 
also, what is his Creator's will respecting a certain action ; 
and that he then deliberately violates this obligation. 
Every man feels that this violation of obligation deserves 
punishment on its own account; and, also, punishment 
hi proportion to the greatness of the obligation violated. 
Hence, the consequences of any action are to be considered 
in a two-fold light ; first, the consequences depending upon 
the present constitution of things; and, secondly, those 
which follow the action, as innocent or guilty ; that is, as 
violating or not violating our obligations to our Creator. 

These two things are plainly to be considered distinct 
from each other. Of the one, we can form some estimate ; 
of the other, none whatever. Thus, whatever be the design 
of the constitution, by which pain should be consequent 
upoii wrong actions, irrespective of guilt ; whether it be to 
admonish us of dangers, or to intimate to us the will of our 
Creator ; we can have some conception how great it would 
probably be. But, if we consider the action as guilty ; that 
is, as violating the known will of our Creator; no one can 
conceive how great the punishment of such an act ought to 
be, for no one can conceive how vast is the obligation 
which binds a creature to his God : nor, on the other hand, 
can any one conceive how vast would be the reward, if this 
obligation were perfectly fulfilled. 

As, then, every moral act is attended with pleasure or 
pain, and as every one also exposes us to the punishments 
or rewards of guilt or innocence, both of which manifestly 
transcend our power of conception; and, if such be our 
constitution, that every moment is rendering our moral 
condition either better or worse ; specially, if this world be 
a state of probation, tending to a state where change is 
impossible ; it is manifestly of the greatest possible impor- 
tance that we should both know our duty, and be furnished 
with all suitable impulsions to perform it. The constitu- 
tion under which man is formed,. in this respect, has been 
explained at the close of the chapter on virtue. And were 



IMPERFECTION OF CONSCIENCE. 113 

the intellect and conscience of man to be in a perfect state, 
and were he in entire harmony with the universe around 
liim, there can be no doubt that his happiness, in the 
present state, would be perfectly secured. 

It would not, however, be certain that, with intellectual 
and moral powers suited to his station, man would be in no 
need of farther communication from his Maker. Although 
his feeling of obligation, and his desire to discharge it, might 
be perfect, yet he might not be fiiUy aware of the manna 
in which this obligation should be discharsfed. Thus, though 
our first parents were endowed with a perfect moral consti- 
tution, yet it was necessary that God should make to them 
a special revelation respecting some portion of his will. 
Such might also be the case in any other instance of a per- 
fect moral constitution, in a being of limited capacity. 

How much more evidently is additional light necessary, 
when it is remembered that the moral constitution of man 
seems manifestly to be imperfect ? This may be observed 
m several respects : 

1. There are many obligations under which man is cre- 
ated, both to his fellow-creatures and to God, which his 
unassisted conscience does not discover. Such are the ob- 
ligations to universal forgiveness, to repentance, and many 
others. 

2. When the obligations are acknowledged, man fre- 
quently errs in respect to the mode in which they are to be 
discharged. Thus, a man may acknowledge his obligations 
to God, but may suppose that God will be pleased with a 
human sacrifice. A man may acknowledge his obligation to 
love his children, but may believe that this obligation may 
best be discharged by putting them to death. Now, ii is 
manifest, that, in both these cases, a man must suffer all the 
present evils resulting from such a course, just as much as 
though he knowingly violated these obligations. 

3. When men both know the obligations under which 
they are created, and the mode in which they are to be 
discharged, they wilfully disobey the monitions of conscience. 
We act according to the impulsions of blind, headlong 
passion, regardless of our own best good, and of the welfare 
of others, in despite of what we know to be the will of o'»f 

10* 



114 IMPERFECTION OF CONSCIENCE. 

Maker. It is the melancholy fact, that men do deliberately 
violate the commands of God, for the sake of the most 
transient and trifling gratification. Hence the hackneyed 
confession : 

Video, proboque meliora; 

Deteriora sequor. 

And hence it is evident that not only are men exposing 
themselves to the pains attendant upon wrong actions dur 
ing the present life ; but they are also exposing themselves 
to the punishments, how great and awful soever these may 
be, which are incurred by violating our obligations to oui 
Creator and our Judge. The state of human nature in these 
respects I suppose to be vividly set forth by St. Paul in the 
Epistle to the Romans, ch. vii, v. 7 — 25. 

If such be our state, it is manifest that under such a 
moral constitution as we have above described, our condition 
must be sufficiently hopeless. Unless something be done, 
it would seem that we must all fail of a large portion of the 
happiness, to which we might otherwise in the present life 
attain ; and, still more, must be exposed to a condemnation 
greater than we are capable of conceiving. 

Under such circumstances, it surely is not improbable, 
that a benevolent Deity should make use of some additional 
means, to inform us of our duty, and thus warn us of the 
evils which we were bringing upon ourselves. Still less is 
it improbable, that a God, delighting in right, should take 
some means to deliver us from the guilty habits which \ve 
have formed, and restore us to that love and practice of 
virtue, which can alone render us pleasing to hiin. That 
God was under any obligation to do this, is not asserted ; 
but that a being of infinite compassion and benevolence 
should do it, though not under any obligation, is surely not 
improbable. 

Should a revelation be made to remedy the defects of 
man's moral state, we can form some conceptions of what 
might be expected in order to accomplish such a result. 

1. Our defective knowledge of moral obligation might 
be remedied, by a clear view of the attributes of God, and 
of the various relations which we sustain to him. 

2. Our ignorance of the mode in which our obligations? 



IMPERFECTION OF CONSCIENCE. 115 

should be discharged, might be dispelled, either by a more 
expanded view of the consequences of actions, or by direct 
precept. 

3. In order t. overcome our temper of disobedience, I 
know not what means might be employed. A reasonable 
one would seem to be, a manifestation of the character of 
the Deity to us, in some new relation, creating some new 
obligations, and thus opening a new source of moral motives 
widiin the soul of man. 

The first and second of these objects are accomplished, 
as I suppose, by die discoveries of natural religion, and by 
the promulgation of the moral law, under the Old Testament 
dispensation. The third is accomplished, by the revelation 
of the facts of the New Testament, and specially, by the 
revelation of God, as the author of a new and a remedial 
dispensation. 

Hence, we see that the sources of moral light, iixespec- 
tive of conscience, are, 

1. The precepts of natural religion. 

2. The precepts and motives of the sacred Scriptures. 
From what has been remarked, in the present chapter, a 

few inferences naturally arise, which I will insert in this 
place. 

It is mentioned above, that the evil consequences of 
doing wTong, are manifestly of two kinds. First, those 
connected with an action as right or wrong, and arising 
from the present constitution of things ; and, secondly, those 
resulting from the action as innocent or guilty ; that is, us 
wilfully violating, or not, the obligations due to our Maker. 

Now, from this plain distinction, we see, 

1. That no sin can be of trifling consequence. The 
least as well as the greatest, being a violation of an obliga- 
tion more sacred and awful than we can conceive, must 
expose us to punishment more dreadHil than we can com- 
prehend. If it be said, the thing in itself is a trifle, the 
answer is obvious : How wicked must it be, for the sake of 
a trifle, to violate so sacred and solemn an obligation as that 
which binds us to our Creator 1 

2. Hence we see how unfounded is the assertion some- 
times made, that God could not, for the momentary actions 



116 IMPERFECTION OF CONSCIENCE 

of this short life, justly inflict upon us any severe or long 
enduring punishment. If an act, whether long or short, be 
a violation of our obligations to God ; if ill-desert be ac- 
cording to the greatness of the obligation violated ; and if 
no one can pretend to comprehend the vastness of the ob- 
ligations which bind the creature to the Creator ; then, no 
one can, a priori, pretend to decide what is the punishment 
justly due to every act of wilful wickedness. It is evident 
that no one can decide this question but he who fully knows 
the relation between the parties ; that is, the Creator 
himself. 

3. Since every impure, revengeful, deceitful or envious 
thought is a violation of our obligations to our Maker, and, 
much more, the words and actions to which these thoughts 
give rise ; and since even the imperfect conscience of every 
individual accuses him of countless instances, if not of habits, 
of such violation : if the preceding observations be just, it 
is manifest that our present moral condition involves the 
elements of much that is alarming. It surely must be the 
duty of every reasonable man, to inquire, with the deepest 
solicitude, whether any way of escape from punishment, and 
of moral renovation, have been revealed by the Being against 
whom we have sinned ; and, if any such revelation have 
been made, it must be our most solemn duty to conform our 
lives to such principles as shall enable us to avail ourselves 
of its provisions. 

4. The importance of this duty will be still more clearly 
evident, if we consider, that the present is a state of proba- 
tion, in which alone moral change is possible ; and which 
must speedily terminate in a state, by necessity, unchange- 
able ; for which, also, the present state therefore offers us 
the only opportunity of preparation. To neglect either to 
possess ourselves of all the knowledge in our power on this 
subject, or to neglect to obey any reasonable precepts which 
afford the least probability of improving our condition for the 
future, seems a degree of folly for which it is really impos- 
sible to find an adequate epithet. 

5. Nor does it render this folly the less reprehensible, 
for a man gravely to assert, that we do not know any thing 
about the future world, and, therefore, it is needless to in 



IMPERFECTION OF CONSCIENCE. 117 

quire respecting it. This is to assert, without inquiry; 
what could only be reasonably asserted after the most full 
and persevering inquiry. No man can reasonably assert 
that we know nothing respecting the other world, until he 
has examined every system of religion within his knowl- 
edge, and, by the fair and legitimate use of his understand- 
ing, sho^vn conclusively that none of them throw any light 
upon the subject. By what right, therefore, can a man 
utter such an assertion, who, at the outset, declares that 
he will examine none of them? What should we think 
of the man who declared that he would not study astron- 
omy, for that no one knew more about the heavens than he 
did himself? Yet many men neglect to inform themselves 
on the subject of religion for no better reason. It is very 
remarkable, that men do not perceive the absurdity of an 
assertion respecting religion, which they would immediately 
perceive, if uttered respecting any thing else. 



CHAPTER SEVENTH. 

OF NATURAL RELIGION. 

In tlie preceding chapter, I have endeavored to illustrate 
the nature of our moral constitution, and to show that, in 
our present state, conscience, unassisted, manifestly fails to 
produce the results which seem to have been intended ; 
and which are necessary to our attaining the happiness 
which is put within our power ; and to our avoiding the 
misery to which we are exposed. That some additional 
light will be granted to us, and that some additional moral 
power will be imparted, seems clearly not improbable. 
This I suppose to have been done by the truths of natural 
and revealed religion. In the present chapter, I shall treat 
of natural religion under the following heads : 

1. The manner in which we may learn our duty, by the 
light of nature. 

2. The extent to which our knowledge of duty can be 
carried by this mode of teaching. 

3. The defects of the system of natural religion. 



SECTION 1. 

OF THE MANNER IN WHICH WE MAY LEARN OUR DUTY BY THE 
LIGHT OF NATURE. 

In treating upon this subject, it is taken for granted, 
I. That there is an intelligent and universal First Cause, 
who made us as we are, and made all things around us 
capable of affecting us, both as individuals and as societies, 
as they do. 



HOW WE MAY LEARN OUR DUTY, ETC. 119 

2. That He had a design in so making us, and in con- 
stituting the relations around us as they are constituted; 
and that a part of that design was to intimate to us his will 
concerning us. 

3. That we are capable of observing these relations, and 
of knowing how various actions affect us and affect others. 

4. And that we are capable of learning the design with 
which these various relations were constituted ; and, spe- 
cially, that part of the design which was to intimate to us 
the will of our Creator. 

The application of these self-evident principles to the 
subject of duty is easy. We know that we are so made as 
to derive happiness fix)m some courses of conduct, and to 
suffer unhappiness from others. Now, no one can doubt 
that the intention of our Creator in these cases was that we 
should pursue the one course, and avoid the other. Or, 
again, we are so made, that we are rendered unhappy, on 
the whole, by pursuing a course of conduct in some partic 
ular manner, or beyond a certain degree. This is an inti- 
mation of our Creator, respecting the manner and the 
degree in which he designs us to pursue that course of 
conduct. 

Again, as has been said before, society is necessary, not 
merely to the happiness, but to the actual existence, of the 
race of man. Hence, it is necessary, in estimating the 
tendency of actions upon our own happiness, to extend our 
view beyond the direct effect of an action upon oui-selves. 
Thus, if we cannot perceive that any evil would result to 
ourselves from a particular course of action, yet, if it would 
tend to injure society, specially if it would tend to destroy 
society altogether, we may hence anive at a clear indica- 
tion of the will of our Creator concerning it. As the de- 
struction of society would be the destruction of the individ- 
ual, it is as evident that God does not intend us to do what 
would injure society, as that He does not intend us to do 
what would injure our own bodies, or diminish our individ 
ual happiness. And the principle of limitation suggested 
above, applies in the same manner here : that is, if a course 
of conduct, pursued in a certain manner, or to a certain 
extent, be beneficial to society; and if pursued in anothei 



120 HOW WE MAY LEARN OUR 

manner, or beyond a certain extent, is injurious to it ; the 
indication is, in this respect, clear, as to the will of our 
Maker respecting us. 

To apply this to particular cases. Suppose a man were in 
doubt, whether or not drunkenness were agreeable to the will 
of his Maker. Let us suppose that intemperate drinking pro- 
duces present pleasure, but that it also produces subsequent 
pain ; and that, by continuance in the habit, the pleasure 
becomes less, and the pain greater; and that the pahi 
affects various powers of the mind, and different organs of 
the body. Let a mjm look around him, and survey the 
crime, the vice, the disease, and the poverty, which God 
has set over against the momentary gratification of the 
palate, and the subsequent excitement which it produces. 
Now, whoever will look at these results, and will consider 
that God had a design in creating things to affect us as they 
do, must be as fully convinced that, by these results. He in- 
tended to forbid intemperance, as though He had said so 
by a voice from heaven. The same principle may be 
applied to gluttony, libertinism, or any other vice. 

Another example may be taken from the case of re- 
venge. Revenge is that disposition which prompts us to 
inflict pain upon another, for the sake of alleviating the 
feehng of personal degradation consequent upon an injury. 
Now, suppose a man, inflamed and excited by this feeling 
of injury, should inflict, upon the other party, pain, until his 
excited feeling was gratified : the injured party would then 
manifestly become the injurer; and, thus, the original 
injurer would be, by the same rule, entitled to retaliate. 
Thus, revenge and retaliation would go on increasing until 
the death of one of the parties. The duty of vengeance 
would then devolve upon the surviving friends and relatives 
of the deceased, and the circle would widen until it in- 
volved whole tribes or nations. Thus, the indulgence of 
this one evil passion would, in a few generations, render 
the thronged city an unpeopled solitude. Nor is this a 
mere imaginary case. The Indians of North America are 
known to have considered the indulgence of revenge not 
merely as innocent, but also as glorious, and in some sense 
obligatory. The result was, that, at the time of the discov- 



DUTY BY THE LIGHT OF NATURE. 121 

eiy of this continent, they were universally engaged in 
wars ; and, according to the testimony of their oldest and 
wisest chiefs, their numbers were rapidly diminishing. And, 
hence, he who observes the effects of revenge upon society, 
must be convinced, that he who fonned the constitution 
under which we live, must have intended, by these effects, 
to have forbidden it, as clearly as though he had made it 
known by language. He has given us an understanding, 
by the simplest exercise of which, we arrive at this con- 
clusion. 

It is still further to be observed, that, whenever a course 
of conduct produces individual, it also produces social 
misery ; and whenever a course of conduct violates the 
social laws of our being, it of necessity produces individual 
misery. And, hence, we see that both of these indications 
are combined, to teach us the same lesson ; that is, to inti- 
mate to us what is, and what is not, the will of God 
respecting our conduct. 

Hence, we see that two views may be taken of an 
action, when it is contemplated in the light of nature : first, 
as affecting ourselves ; and, secondly, as affecting both 
ourselves and society, but specially the latter. It is in this 
latter view that we introduce the doctrine of general con- 
sequences. We ask, in order to determine what is our 
duty. What would be the result, if this or that action were 
universally practised among men ? Or, how would it affect 
the happiness of individual 5, and of the whole ? By the 
answer to these questions, we ascertain what is the will of 
God in respect to that action, or that course of action. When 
once the will of God is ascertained, conscience, as we have 
shown, teaches us that we are under the highest obligation 
to obey it. Thus, from the consideration of the greatest 
amount of happiness, we arrive at the knowledge of our 
duty, not direcdy, but indirectly. The feeling of moral 
obligation does not arise from the simple fact that, such a 
course of conduct mil, or will not, produce the greatest 
amount of happiness ; but, from the fact that this tendency 
shows us what is the will of our Creator ; and we are, by 
the principles of our nature, under the highest possible obli 
gation to obey that will. 
11 



. 2i^ now WE MAY LEARN OUR 

It must be evident that a careful observation of the 
results and tendencies of actions, and of different coui-ses 
of conduct, will teach us, in very many respects, the laws 
of our moral nature ; that is, what, in these respects, is the 
will of our Creator. Now, these laws, thus amved at, 
and reduced to order and aiTangement, form the system of 
natural religion. So far as it goes, every one must confess 
such a system to be valuable ; and it, moreover, rests upon 
as sure and certain a basis as any system of laws whatever. 

To all this, however, I know but of one objection that 
can be urged. It is, that pain is not, of necessity, punitive, 
or prohibitory ; and that it may be merely monitory or 
advisory. Thus, if I put my hand incautiously too near 
the fire, I am admonished by the pain which I feel to with- 
draw It. Now, this pain is, manifestly, only monitory, and 
intended merely to warn me of danger. It is not, of neces- 
sity, prohibitory ; for, I may hold my hand so near to the 
fire as to produce great pain, for some necessaiy purpose, — 
as, for instance, for the sake of curing disease, — and yet 
not '/iolate my obligations to my Creator, nor in any 
measure incur his displeasure. 

Now, the fact thus stated may be flilly admitted, without 
in the least affecting the argument. It is evident, that 
many of the pains to which we are at present exposed, are, 
in their nature, intended to warn us of approaching harm, 
as in the instance just mentioned ; or, they may be intima- 
tions of mischief actually commenced, of which we could 
*"'^t be otherwise aware, — as in the case of internal diseases 
And, it is manifest, that, such being their nature and design 
they must be intimately connected with, and either accom- 
pany or precede, that injury of which they are intended to 
forewarn or to inform us ; and it is natural to expect that 
they would cease or tend to cessation, as soon as they have 
accomplished the object for which they were intended. 
And such, I think, will in general be found to be the fact, 
with respect to those pains which are in their nature mon- 
itory. 

But I think it will be evident, to every one who will 
observe, that many of the pains endured under the present 
constitution, are not of this kind. 



DUTY BY THE LIGHT OF NATURE 123 

rims, for example : 

1. There are many pains wliich are inflicted in conse- 
qu jnce of actions of wliich we were forewarned by con- 
science. It would seem that the design of these pains 
could not be monitory, inasmuch as monition is performed 
by another faculty. 

2. There are many pains which, from the nature of our 
constitution, are not inflicted until after the act has been 
perfomied, and the evil accomplished. This is the case 
with dmnkenness, and many other vices. Here, the pain 
cannot be intended as a prem.onition ; for it is not inflicted 
in its severity until after the injury has actually been done. 

, 3. Not only does the pain, in many cases, occur after- 
wards ; it frequently does not occur until a long time after 
the offence. Months, and even yeai-s, may elapse, before 
the punishment overtakes the criminal. This is very fre- 
quently the case with youthful crimes, which, ordinarily, 
exhibit their result not until manhood, or even old age. 
Now, pain must here be intended to signify something 
else besides warning. 

4. We find that the punishment, in many cases, bears 
no sort of proportion either to the benefit obtained by the 
individual, or even to the injury, in the particular instance, 
inflicted upon society. This is manifest in very many in- 
stances of lying, forgery, small theft, and the like, in which, 
by a single act of wrong, a person ruins a reputation which 
it had taken a whole life to establish. Now, in such a case 
as this, it is evident that the purpose of warning could not 
be intended ; for this end could be accomplished, at vastly 
less expense of happiness, in some other way. 

5. We find that the tendency of many instances of pun- 
ishment, is not to leave the offender in the same state as 
before, but rather in a worse state. His propensities to do 
wrong are rendered stronger, and his inducement to do well 
weaker ; and thus he is exposing himself to greater and 
greater punishments. The tendency, therefore, is not to 
recovery, but to more fatal moral disease. 

6. Although a man, by reformation, may fi-equently 
regain the standing which he has lost, yet there are mani- 
fest indications, in the present constitution, that, after a 



124 HOW WE MAY LEARN OUR DUTY, ETC. 

given amount of trial has been granted, a decisive punish- 
ment is inflicted which extinguishes for ever all hope, if 
not all possibility, of recovery. A man may waste part 
of his youth in idleness, and may by diligence regain the 
•time which he had lost. But he soon arrives at a point, 
beyond which such opportunity is impossible. Thus also 
in morals, a man may sometimes do wrong, and return to 
virtue, and escape present punishment ; but every instance 
of crime renders the probability of escape less ; and he at 
last arrives at a point, beyond which nothing can avert the 
infliction of the merited and decisive calamity. 

7. We find that some actions produce misery which 
extends to other beings besides those who are actually con- 
cerned in committing them. 

This takes place sometimes by example, and at other 
times the pain is inflicted upon those who could not be 
infected by the example. Illustrations of this are seen in 
cases of disease propagated by hereditary descent, in misery 
arising from the misconduct of rulers, in the suffering of men 
from flagitious crimes of relatives and acquaintances. And 
in consequence of the constitution under which we exist, 
these miseries are frequently transmitted down beyond any 
assignable limit. Thus, the condition of the Jews is by 
themselves and others frequently believed to be the result 
of some crime committed by their forefathers, either at or 
before the time of Christ. The sad effects of the persecu- 
tion of Protestantism in Spain and Portugal, at the time of 
the Reformation, can be clearly traced in all the subsequent 
history of these countries. 

Now, all these considerations ,seem clearly to indicate, 
that there are pains inflicted upon man for other purposes 
except warning ; and that they are of the nature of punish- 
ment ; that is, of pain inflicted after crime has been volun- 
tarily committed, in spite of sufScient warning, and inflicted 
by way of desert, as what the offence really merits, and 
what it behooves a righteous governor to award transgres- 
sion. 

Nor will it avail, to object that these inflictions are in- 
tended to be warnings to others. This is granted ; but this 
oy no means prevents their being also punishments in the 



HOW FAR WE MAY LEARN OUR DUTY, ETC. 125 

sense in which we have considered them. Such is the case 
in all punishments inflicted by society. They are intended 
to be a warning to othere ; but this hinders not their being 
also in the strictest sense punishments ; that is, inflictions 
of pain as the just desert of crime, and as clear indications 
of the will of society respecting the action of which they 
are the result. 

From what has been said, I think we may safely con- 
clude : 

1 . That God has given to man a moral and an intellectual 
constitution, by which he may be admonished of his duty. 

2. That He allows man to act freely, and to do either 
ridit or wrono;, as he chooses. 

3. That He, in the present life, has connected rewards 
with the doing of right, and punishments with the doing of 
wrong ; and that these rewards and punishments afi:ect both 
the individual and society. 

4. And hence that, fi'om an attentive observation of the 
results of actions upon individuals, and upon society, we 
may ascertain what is the will of God concerning us. 

5. And for all the opportunities of thus ascertaining his 
will by his dealings with men — ^that is, by the light of 
nature — God holds all his creatures responsible. 



SECTION II. 

HOW FAR WE MAY DISCOVER OUR DUTY BY THE LIGHT OP 

NATURE. 

It has been shown that we may, by observing the results 
of our actions upon individuals, and upon society, ascertain 
what is the will of our Creator concerning us. In this 
manner we may discover much moral truth, which would 
be unknown, were we left to the guidance of conscience 
unassisted ; and we may derive many motives to \drtue 
which would otherwise be inoperative. 

I. By the light of nature we discover much moral 
II* 



126 HOW FAR WE MAY LEARN OUR 

truth which could never be discovered by conscience 
unassisted- 

1. Conscience indicates to us our obligations to others 
when our relations to them are discovered ; and impels us 
toward that course of conduct which the understanding 
points out as corresponding with these obligations. But 
there are many obligations which conscience seems not to 
point out to men, and many ways of fulfilling these obligations 
whicn the understanding does not clearly indicate. In 
these respects, we may be greatly assisted by natural 
religion. 

Thus, I doubt whether the unassisted conscience would 
teach the wrong of polygamy or of divorce. The Jews, 
even at the time of our Savior, had no conception that a 
marriage contract was obligatory for life. But any one 
who will observe the effects of polygamy upon families and 
societies, can have no doubt that the precept of the gospel 
on this subject is the moral law of the system under which 
we are. So, I do not know that unassisted conscience 
would remonstrate against what might be called reasonable 
revenge, or the operation of the Lex Talionis. But he 
who will observe the consequences of revenge, and those of 
forgiveness of injuries, will have no difficulty in deciding 
which course of conduct has been indicated as his duty by 
his Maker. 

2. The extent of obhgations, previously known to exist, 
is made known more clearly by the light of nature. Con- 
science might teach us the obligations to love our friends, 
or our countrjrmen, but it might not go farther. The 
results of difterent courses of conduct would clearly show 
that our Creator intended us to love all men, of every 
nation, and even our enemies. 

3. It is by observing the results of our actions that we 
learn the limitations which our Creator has affixed to oui 
desires, as we have shown in the chapter on happiness. 
The simple fact that gratification of our desires, beyond a 
certain limit, will produce more misery than happiness, 
addresses itself to our self-love, and forms a reason why that 
limit should not be transgressed. The fact that this limit 
was fixed by our Creator, and that he has thus intimated to 



DUTY BY THE LIGHT OF NATURE. 127 

US his will, addresses itself to our conscience, and places us 
under obligation to act as he has commanded, on pain o^ 
his displeasure. 

4. In many cases where the obligation is acknowledged, 
we might not be able, without the light of natural religion, 
to decide in what manner it could best be discharged 
Thus, a man who felt conscious of his obligations as a 
parent, and wished to discharge them, would derive much 
valuable information by observing what mode of exhibiting 
paternal love had produced the happiest results. He would 
hence be able the better to decide what was requu'ed of 
him. 

In this manner it cannot be doubted that much valuable 
knowledge of moral tmth might be acquired, beyond what 
is attainable by unassisted conscience. But this is not all. 

II. 'Natural religion presents additional motives to the 
practice of virtue. 

1. It does this, in the first place, by more clearly setting 
before us the rewards of virtue, and the punishments of 
vice. Conscience forewarns us against crime, and inflicts 
Its own peculiar punishment upon guilt ; but, natural reli- 
gion infomns us of the additional consequences, independent 
of ourselves, which attach to moral action, according to the 
constitution under which we are created. Thus, conscience 
might forewarn a man against dishonesty, and might inflict 
upon him the pains of remorse, if he had stolen ; but her 
monition would surely derive additional power from an 
observation of the effect which must be produced upon indi- 
viduals and societies by the practice of this immorality ; 
and, also, by the contrary effects which must arise from the 
opposite viitue. 

2. Still further. Natural religion presents us with more 
distinct and affecting views of the character of God than 
could be obtained without it. One of the first aspirations 
of a human soul is after an Intelligent First Cause ; and 
the most universal dictate of conscience is, that this First 
Cause ought to be obeyed. Hence, every nation, how 
rude soever it be, has its gods, and its religious services. 
But such a notion of the Deity is cold and inoperative, 
when compared with that which may be derived from an 



128 HOW FAR WE MAY LEARN OUR DUTY, ETC. 

intelligent observation of the laws of nature, physical and 
moral, which we see pervading the universe around us. In 
every moral law which has been written on the page of 
tills world's history, we discover a new lineament of the 
character of the Deity. Every moral attribute of God 
which we discover, imposes upon us a new obligation, and 
presents an additional motive why we should love and 
serve Him. Hence we see that the knowledge of God, 
derived from the study of nature, is adapted to add greatly 
to the impulsive power of conscience. 

We see, then, how large a field of moral knowledge is 
spread open before us, if we only, in a suitable manner, 
apply our understandings to the works of God around us. 
He has arranged all things, for txie purpose of teaching us 
these lessons, and He has created our intellectual and 
moral nature expressly for the purpose of learning them. 
If, then, we do not use the powers which He has given us, 
for the purpose for which He has given them, He holds us 
responsible for the result. Thus said the prophet : " Be- 
cause they regard not the works of the Lord, neither con- 
sider the operation of His hands, therefore, He shall de- 
stroy them, and not build them up." Thus, the Scriptures, 
elsewhere, declare all men to be responsible for the correct 
use of all the knowledge of duty which God had set before 
them. St. Paul, Rom. i, 19, 20, asserts, '-That which 
may be known of God, is manifest in (or to) them, for 
God hath showed it to them : so that (or therefore) they 
are without excuse." Thus, he also declares, "They that 
sin without law, (that is, without a written revelation,) shall 
perish without law." And thus we come to the general 
conclusion, that natural religion presents to all men a dis- 
tinct and important means of knowing the character and 
will of God, and the obligations and duties of man ; and 
ihat, for this knowledge, all men are justly held responsible. 



DEFECTS OF THE SYSTEM, ETC 129 



SECTION 11I> 

DEFEr.TS OF THE SYSTEM OF NATURAL RELIGION, 

I. Without any argument on the subject, the insufficiency 
of natural rehgion, as a means of human reformation, might 
be readily made manifest hy facts. 

1. The facts on which natural religion rests, and the in- 
tellectual power to derive the moral laws from the facts, 
have been in the possession of man from the beginning. 
Yet, the whole history of man has exhibited a constant 
tendency to moral deterioration. This is proved by the 
fact, that every people, not enlightened by revelation, con- 
sider the earliest period of their histoiy as the period of 
their greatest moral purity. Then, the gods and men held 
frequent intercourse ; this intercourse, in consequence of the 
sins of men, has since been discontinued. That was the 
golden age ; the subsequent ages have been of brass, or of 
iron. The political histoiy of men seems to teach the same 
lesson. Li the early ages of national existence, sparseness 
of population, mutual fear, and universal poverty, have 
obliged men to lay the foundations of society in principles of 
justice, in order to secure national existence. But, as soon 
as, under such a constitution, wealth was increased, popula- 
tion become dense, and progi'ess in arts and arms have ren- 
dered a nation fearless, the anti-social tendencies of vice 
have shown tliemselves too powerful for the moral forces by 
which they have been opposed. The bonds of society have 
been gradually dissolved, and a nation, rich in the spoils of 
an hundred triumphs, becomes the prey of some warlike and 
more virtuous horde, which takes possession of the spoil, 
merely to pursue the same career to a more speedy teiini- 
nation. 

2. The systems of religion of the heathen may be fairly 
considered as the legitimate result of all the moral forces 
which are in operation upon man, in-espective of revelation. 
They show us, not what man might have learned by the 
proper use of his faculties in the study of duty, but what ht 



130 DEFECTS OF THE SYSTEM 

has always actually learned. Now, these systems, so fai 
trom having any tendency to make man better, have a 
manifest tendency to make him worse. Their gods were 
of the most profligate and demoralizing character. Had 
natural religion succeeded in instilling into the minds of men 
tme ideas of virtue and duty, their imaginations, in forming 
conceptions of deities, would have invested them with far 
different attributes. 

3. The ethical systems of philosophers, it is true, not un- 
frequently presented sublime and pure conceptions of Deity. 
But, as instmments of moral reformation, they were clearly 
inoperative. They were extremely imperfect in every 
thing which relates to our duties to man, and, specially, in 
every thing which relates to our duty to God ; they offered 
no sufficient motives to obedience ; they were established 
on subtle reasonings, which could not be comprehended by 
the common people ; and they imposed no obligation upon 
their disciples to disseminate them among others. Hence, 
they were never extensively known, beyond the small circle 
of meditative students ; and, by these, they were considered 
rather as matters of doubtful speculation, than of practical 
benefit ; adapted rather to the cultivation of intellectual 
acuteness, than to the reformation of moral conduct. I 
think that any one, on reading the ethical disquisitions of the 
ancients, must be struck with the fact, that honest, simple, 
and ardent love of tiaith seems to have furnished no motive 
whatever to their investigations ; and that its place was 
supplied by mere curiosity, or love of the new, the refined, 
and even the paradoxical. 

And, hence, as might be expected, these ethical systems 
made no converts from vice to virtue. From the era of 
which of the systems of ancient ethics, can any refonnation 
be dated ? Where are their effects recorded in the moral 
history of man ? Facts have abundantly proved them to 
be utterly destitute of any power over the conscience, or 
of any pmctical influence over the conduct. 

4. Nor can this failure be attributed to any want of intel- 
lectual cultivation. During a large portion of the period 
of which we have spoken, the human mind had, in many 
respects, attained to as high a state of perfection as it has 



OF NATURAL RELIGION. i3\ 

attained at any subsequent age. Eloquence, poetry, 
Hietoric, nay, some of the severer sciences, were studied 
with a success which has never since been surpassed. This 
is universally confessed. Yet what progress did the classic 
ages make in morals ? And hence, we think, it must be 
admitted that the human mind, even under the most favors- 
able cii'cumstances, has never, when unassisted by revela- 
tion, deduced from the course of things around us any such 
principles of duty, or motives to the perfomiance of it, as 
were sufficient to produce any decided effect upon the moral 
character of man. 

And hence were we unable to assign the cause of this 
failure ; yet the fact of the failure alone is sufficient to 
prove the necessity of some other means for arriving at a 
knowledge of duty, than is afforded by the light of nature. 

II. But, secondly, the causes of this insufficiency may, 
in many respects, be pointed out. Among them are ob- 
viously the following : 

1 . The mode of teaching natural religion is by expe- 
rience. We can form no opinion respecting the results of 
two opposite courses of action, until they be both before us. 
Hence, we cannot certainly know what the law is, except 
by breaking it. Hence, the habit of violation must, in 
some sense, be formed, before we know what the law is 
which we violate. Consequently, from the nature of the 
case, natural religion must always be much behind the age, 
and must always utter its precepts to men who are, in some 
manner, fixed in the habit of violating them. 

2. There are many moral laws in which the connection 
between the transgression and the punishment cannot be 
shown, except in the more advanced periods of society. 
Such is the fact, in respect to those laws which can be 
ascertained only by extended and minute observation ; and, 
of course, a state of society in which knowledge is widely 
disseminated, and the experience of a large surface, and for 
a long period, may be necessary to establish the fact of the 
connection between this particular violation and this par- 
ticular result. In the mean time, manldnd will be suffeniig 
all the consequences of vice ; and the courses of con- 



132 DEFECTS OF THE SYSTEM 

duct which are the causes of misery, will be interweaving 
themselves with the whole customs, and habits, and in- 
terests, of every class of society. Thus, it too often hap- 
pens, that the knowledge is with great difficulty acquired , 
and, when acquired, unfortunately comes too late to effect 
a remedy. 

3. A still more radical deficiency, however, in natural 
religion, is, that it is, fi-om its nature, incapable of teaching 
facts. It can teach only laws and tendencies. From 
observing what has been done, and liow it has been done, it 
can infer that, if the same thing were done again, it would 
be done in the same manner, and would be attended, in all 
places, and at all times, if under the same conditions, with 
the same results. But, as to a fact, that is, whether an 
action were actually performed at some other place or time, 
or whether it ever would be, natural religion can give us 
no information. Thus, we know by experience, that, if a 
man fall from a precipice, he will be destroyed ; but, 
whether a man ever did so fall, much less whether A or B 
did fall from it, we can never be informed by general prin- 
ciples. Thus, from the fact that we see guilt punished in 
this world, we infer, from natural religion, that it will 
always be punished in this world ; we infer, though not so 
certainly, that it will also be punished in another world, if 
there be another world ; but of the fact whether there be 
another world, natural religion can give us no certain in- 
formation; much less, can it give us any information 
respecting the question whether God has actually done 
any thing to remedy the evils of sin, and vary those 
sequences which, without a remedy, experience shows us to 
be inevitable. 

4. Hence, natural religion must derive all its certain 
motives from the present world. Those from the othei 
world are, so far as it is concerned, in their nature contingent 
and uncertain. And, hence, it loses all that power over 
man, which would be derived from the certain knowledge 
of our existence after death, of the nature of that existence, 
and of what God has done for our restoration to virtue and 
lipppiness. jMl these being facts, can never be known. 



OF NATURAL RELIGION. 133 

except by language, that is, by revelation. They must 
always remain in utter incertitude, so long as we are left to 
the teachino^s of natural religion. 

We see, then, that natural religion is obliged to meet the 
impulsions from this world, solely by impulsions from this 
world. Nay, more, she is obliged to resist the power of 
the present, of passion strengthened and confirmed by habit, 
by considerations drawn from the distant, the future, and 
what may seem to be the uncertain. Hence, its suc- 
cess must be at best but dubious, even when its power is 
exerted upon those least exposed to the allurements of vice. 
Who does not see that it is utterly vain, to hope for suc- 
cess from such a source, in our attempts to refonn men in 
general ? Every one, who is at all acquainted with the 
histor)^ of man, must be convinced, that nothing less power- 
ful than the whole amount of motive derived from the 
Imowledge of an endless existence, has ever been found a 
sufficient antagonist force, to the downward and headlong 
tendencies of appetite and passion. 

And hence, from the fact of the recorded failure of natu- 
ral religion, as a means of reformation, and from the defects 
inherent in its very nature, as a means of moral improve- 
ment, there seems clearly to exist a great need of some 
additional moral force, to correct the moral evils of our 
nature. It is surely not improbable that some additional 
means of instruction and improvement may have been 
granted to our race by a merciful Creator. 
12 



134 



CHAPTER EIGHTH. 

RELATION BETWEEN NATURAL AND REVEALED RELIGION. 

If what we have said be true, the defeots of natural 
religion would lead us to expect, that some other means of 
moral instmction would be afforded us. And, indeed, this 
is the conclusion at which some of the wisest of the heathen 
philosophers arrived, from a consideration of that utter 
ignorance of futurity in which they were of necessity 
plunged, by the most attentive study of natural religion. 
They felt convinced, that the Deity would not have con* 
structed a system of moral teaching, which led to imper- 
vious darkness, unless He intended, out of that very dark- 
ness, at some period or other, to manifest light. 

But still more, I think that an attentive observation of 
what natural religion teaches, and of its necessary and inhe- 
rent defects, would afford us some grounds of expectation, 
respecting the nature of that revelation which should be 
made. If we can discover the moral necessities of our 
race, and can also discover in what respects, and for what 
reason, the means thus far employed have failed to relieve 
them, we may with certainty predict some of tho character- 
istics which must mark any system, which should be de- 
vised to accomplish a decided remedy. 

For example : 

1. It is granted that natural religion does teach us 
some unqestionable truths. Now, no truth can be incon- 
sistent with itself. And hence it might be expected, thai 
whenever natural and revealed religion treated upon the same 
subjects, they would teach in perfect harmony. The 
second instructor may teach more than the first ; but so 
far as they give instmction on the same subjects, if both 
(each the truth, they must both teach the same lesson. 

2. It is natural to expect that a revelation would give 



RELATION BETWEEN NATURAL, ETC. 135 

US much infomiatlon upon the subject of duty, which could 
not be learned by the light of nature. Thus, it might be 
expected to make known more clearly to us, than we could 
otherwise learn them, the obligations by which we are 
bound to our fellow-men, and to God ; and also the manner 
in which those obligations are to be discharged. 

3. That it would present us w^ith motives to virtue, in 
addition to those made known by the light of nature. We 
have seen that the motives of natural religion are derived 
from this world, and are in their natiu'e insufficient. We 
should expect that those in a revelation would be drawn 
from some other source. And still more, as natural religion 
may be considered to have exhausted the motives of this 
world, it is surely not unreasonable to expect, that a revela- 
tion, leaving this world, would draw its motives principally, 
if not entirely, from another, if it revealed to us the fact 
that another w^orld existed. 

4. We should not expect that the Deity would employ 
a second and additional means, to accomplish what could 
be done by any modification of the means first employed. 
Hence, if a revelation were made to men, we might reason- 
ably expect, that it would make known to us such truths 
as could not, in the nature of the case, be communicated 
by natural religion. 

These are, I think, just anticipations. At any rate, I 
think it must be admitted, that if a system of religion, pur- 
porting to be a revelation from heaven, met all these expec- 
tations, its relations to natural religion not only would pre- 
sent no argument against its truth, but would create a strong 
a priori presumption in its favor. 

Now these expectations are all fully realized in the 
system of religion contained in the Scriptures of the Old 
and New Testaments. 

1. The truths of revealed religion harmonize perfectly 
with those of natural religion. The difference between them 
consists in this, — that the one teaches plainly, what the other 
teaches by inference ; the one takes up the lesson where 
the other leaves it, and adds to it other and vitally important 
precepts. Nay, so perfect is the harmony between them, 
that it may safely be asserted that not a single precept of 



136 RELATION BETWEEN NATURAL 

natural religion exists, which is not also found in the Bible ; 
and still more, that the Bible is every dsLy directing us to 
new lessons, taught us by nature, which, but for its infor- 
mation , would never have been discovered. So complete is 
this coincidence, as to afford irrefragable proof that the 
Bible contains the moral laws of the universe ; and, hence, 
that the Author of the universe — that is, of natural religion 
— ^is also the Author of the Scriptures. 

2. The Holy Scriptures, as has just been intimated, 
give us much information on questions of duty, which could 
not be obtained by the light of nature. Under this remark 
may be classed the scriptural precepts respecting the do- 
mestic relations ; respecting our duties to enemies, and to 
men in general ; and especially respecting our obligations 
to God, and the manner in which He may most acceptably 
be worshipped. 

3. The Scriptures present motives to the practice of vir- 
tue, additional, generically different firom those of natural 
religion, and of infinitely greater power. 

1. The motives to virtue, from consequences in this 
world, are strengthened by a clearer development of the 
indissoluble connection between moral cause and effect, 
than is made known by natural religion. 

2. In addition to these motives, we are assured of our 
existence after death; and eternal happiness and eternal 
misery are set forth as the desert of virtue and vice. 

3. The Scriptures reveal to us the Deity as assuming 
new relations to us, and devising a most merciful way for 
our redemption : by virtue of this new relation, establishing 
a new ground of moral obligation between the race of man 
and himself, and thus adding a power to the impulsion of 
conscience, of which natural religion must, in the nature of 
the case, be destitute. 

4. It is manifest, that much of the above knowledge, 
which the Scriptures reveal, is of the nature of fact ; and, 
therefore, could not be communicated to us by experience, 
or in the way of general laws, but must be made known by 
language, that is, by revelation. 

Thus, the existence of a state of being after death, the 
doctrine of the resurrection, of a universal and impartial 



AND REVEALED RELIGION. 137 

judgment, of an endless state of rewards and punishments, 
of a remedial dispensation, by which the connection be- 
tween guilt and punishment may be conditionally severed ; 
the doctrine of the atonement, and the way in which a 
man may avail himself of the benefits of this remedial dis- 
pensation ; — all these are manifestly of great practical im- 
portance in a scheme of moral reforaiation ; and yet, all of 
them being of the nature of facts, they could be made 
known to man in no other way than by language. 

Now, as these seem clearly to be just anticipations re- 
specting any system which should be designed to supply 
the evident defects of natural religion, and as all these an- 
ticipations are realized in the system of religion contained 
m the Scriptures, each one of these anticipations thus 
realized furnishes a distinct a 'priori presumption in favor 
of the truth of revealed religion. We do not pretend that 
any, or that all of these considerations, prove the Scriptures 
to be a revelation fi'om God. This proof is derived from 
Dther sources. What we would say, is this : that, from 
what we know of God's moral government by the light of 
nature, it is manifestly probable that he would give us some 
additional instmction, and that that instruction would be, 
in various important respects, analogous to that contained 
in the Holy Scriptures. And we hence conclude, that 
although it were gimnted — which, howev^er, need not be 
granted — that, were there no antecedent facts in the case, it 
might seem unlikely that God would condescend to make a 
special revelation of his will to men ; yet, ivhen the antece- 
dent facts arc properly considered^ this presumption, if it 
ever could be maintained, is now precisely reversed, and 
that there now exists a fair presumption that such a revela- 
tion would actually he made. And hence we conclude, 
that a revelation of the will of God by language is not, as 
many persons suppose, an event so unlikely, that no evi- 
dence can be conceived sufficiently strong to render it 
credible ; but, that it is, on the contrary, an event, from all 
that we know of God already, essentially probable ; and 
that it is, to say the least of it, as fairly within the limits of 
evidence as any other event, and when proved, on the 
ordinary principles of evidence, is as much entitled to 
12* 



138 RELATION BETWEEN NATURAL, ETC. 

belief as any other event. And hence we conceive that 
when men demand, in support of the truth of revealed 
religion, evidence unlike to that which is demanded in sup- 
port of any other event, — that is, evidence of which they 
themselves cannot define the nature, — they demand what is 
manifestly unreasonable, and proceed upon a presumption 
wholly at variance with all the known facts in the case. 



139 



CHAPTER NINTH. 

■1> he -'-: y -■■' ^ ' ' '■ ■ ■■■- '• 

THE HOLY SORIPTURES. 

This would seem to be the place in which to present the 
proof of the authenticity of the Holy Scriptures, as a 
revelation from God. This, however, being only a par- 
ticular exemplification of the general laws of evidence, it 
belongs to the course of instruction in Intellectual Phi- 
losophy. It must therefore be here omitted. We shall, in 
the remainder of these remarks, take it for granted, that 
the Scriptures of the Old and New Testament contain a 
revelation from God to man, and that these books contain all 
that God has been pleased to reveal unto us by language ; 
and, therefore, all which is recorded in language that is 
jltimate in morals, and that is, by its own authority, binding 
upon the conscience. Taking this for granted, we shall in 
the present chapter consider, 1st, what the Scriptures con- 
tain ; and, 2d, how we may ascertain our duty from the 
Scriptures. 



SECTION 1. 

A VIEW OF THE HO^ SCrM^T?^!^. 

The Holy Scriptures are contained in two separate 
v^r^kimes, entitled the Old and the New Testament. These 
volumes have each a distinct object, and yet their objects 
are in perfect harmony ; and, together, they contain all 
that could be desired in a revelation to the human race. 

Tlie design of the Old Testament mainly is, to reveal a 
system of simple law ; to exhibit the results of s\ich a system 



140 A VIEW OF THK HOLY SCRIPTURES. 

upon the human race, and to direct the minds of men to the 
remedial dispensation which was to follow. In accomplish- 
ing this design, it contains several distinct parts. 

1. An account of the creation of the world, of the crea- 
tion and fall of man, and a brief history of the race of man 
until the deluge. The cause of this deluge is stated to be, 
the universal and intense wickedness of man. 

2. The account of the separation of a particular family, 
the germ of a nation, designed to be the depositaries of the 
revealed will of God ; and the history of this nation, from 
the call of Abraham until the return from the captivity in 
Babylon, a period of about fifteen hundred years. 

3. The system of laws which God gave to this nation. 
These laws may be comprehended under three classes : 

Moral laws, or those which arise from the immutable 
relations existing between God and man. 

Civil laws, or those enacted for the government of civil 
society ; adapted specially to the Jewish Theocracy, or that 
form of government in which God was specially recognised 
as King. 

Ceremonial laws. These were of two kinds : First, 
those which were intended to keep this nation separate from 
other nations ; and, second, those intended to prefigure 
events which were to. occur under the second or new dis- 
pensation. 

4. Various events in their history, discourses of prophets 
and inspired teachers, prayers, odes of pious men ; all tend- 
ing to illustrate what are the effects of a system of moral law 
upon human nature, even when placed under the most fa- 
vorable circumstances ; and also, to exhibit the effects of 
the religious principle upon the soul of man under every 
variety of time and condition. 

The result of all this series of moral means seems to be 
this. God, in various modes, suited to their condition, made 
kno\vn his will to the whole human race. They all, with 
the exception of a single family, became so corrupt, that he 
destroyed them by a general deluge. He then selected a 
single family, and gave them his written law, and, by pecu- 
liar enactments, secluded them from all other nations, that 
the experiment might be made under the most favorable 



A VIEW OF THE HOLY SCRIPTURES. 141 

Circumstances. At the same time, the effects of natm-al re- 
ligion were tried among the heathen nations that smTounded 
them. The result was, a clear demonstration that, under 
the conditions of being in which man was created, any ref- 
ormation was hopeless, and that, unless some other condi- 
tions were revealed, the race would perish by its own vicious 
and anti-social tendencies, and enter the other world to reap 
the reward of its guilt for ever. While this is said to be the 
main design of the Old Testament, it is not to be under- 
stood that this is its whole design. It was intended to be 
introductory to the new dispensation, and, also, to teach 
those, to whom it was addressed, the way of salvation. 
Hence, allusions to the principal events in the new dispen- 
sation, are every where to be met with. Hence, also, as- 
surances of pardon are made to the penitent, and God is 
represented as ready to forgive ; though the procuring cause 
of our pardon is not explicitly stated ; but only alluded to 
in terms which could not be fully understood, until the 
remedial dispensation was accomplished. 

The design of the New Testament is, to reveal to the 
race of man the new conditions of being, under which it is 
placed, by virtue of a remedial dispensation. 

In pursuance of this design, the New Testament con- 
tains, — 

1. A narrative of the life and death, resurrection and as- 
cension, the acts and conversations, of Jesus of Nazareth ; a 
Being in whom the divine and human natures were mys- 
teriously united ; who appeared on earth to teach us what- 
ever was necessary to be known of our relations to God ; 
and, by his obedience to the law, and voluntary sufferings 
and death, to remove the obstacles to our pardon, which, 
unoer the former dispensation, existed in consequence of 
the holiness of God. 

2. A brief narrative of the facts relating to the progress 
of the Christian religion, for several years after the ascension 
of Jesus of Nazareth. 

3. The instructions which his immediate followers, or 
apostles, by divine inspiration, gave to the men of their own 
time, and which were rendered necessary in consequence 



142 HOW WE ARE TO ASCERTAIN 

of tlieir ignorance of the principles of religion, or the weak- 
ness of their virtue, and the imperfection of their faith. 

The whole of this volume, taken together, teaches us 
the precepts, the sanctions, and the rewards of the law of 
God, with as great distinctness as we could desire ; and 
also a way of salvation, on different grounds from that re- 
vealed both by natural religion and by the Old Testament ; 
a way depending for merit, upon the doings and sufferings 
of another, but yet available to us on no other conditions 
than those of supreme, strenuous, and universal moral effort 
after perfect purity of thought, and word and action. 

This, being a remedial dispensation, is, in its nature, 
fixed. We have no reason to expect any other ; nay, the 
idea of another would be at variance with the belief of the 
truth of this. And, hence, the Scriptures of the Old and 
New Testaments contain all that God has revealed to us 
by language respecting his will. What is contained here 
alone, is binding upon the conscience. Or, in the words 
of Chillingworth, " The Bible, the Bible, the religion 
OF Protestants." 



SECTION II. 

J- 

IN WHAT MANNER ARE WE TO ASCERTAIN OUR DUTY FROM TUB 
HOLY SCRIPTURES? 

Taking it for granted that the Bible contains a revelation 
of the will of God, such as is stated in the preceding sec- 
lion, it will still be of importance for us to decide how we 
may ascertain, from the study of it, what God really requires 
of us. Much of it is mere history, containing an unvarnished 
narration of the actions of good and of bad men. Much of 
It has reference to a less enlightened age, and to a particu- 
lar people, set apart from other people, for a special and 
peculiar purpose. Much of it consists of exhortations and 
reproofs, addressed to this people, in reference to the laws 



OUR DUTY FROM THE SCRIPTURES. 143 

then existing, but which have been since abrogated. Now, 
amidst this variety of instmctions, given to men at different 
times, and of different nations, it is desirable that the prin- 
ciples be settled, by which we may decide what portion of 
tliis mass of instruotion is binding upon the conscience, 
at the present moment. My object, in the present section, 
is to ascertain, as far as possible, the principles by which 
we are to be guided in such a decision. 

When a revelation is made to us by language, it is taken 
for granted, that whatever is our duty, will be signified to 
us by a command ; and hence, what is not commanded, is 
not to be considered by us as obligatory. Did we not 
establish this limitation, every thing recorded, as, for in- 
stance, all the actions both of good and of bad men, might 
be regarded as authority ; and thus a revelation, given for 
the purpose of teaching us our duty, might be used as an 
mstmment to confound all distinction between right and 
wrong. 

The oTound of moral obligation, as derived from a reve- 
lation, must, therefore, be a command of God. 

Now, a command seems to involve three ideas : 

1. That an act he designated. This may be, by the 
designation of the act itself, as, for instance, giving bread to 
the hungiy ; or else by the designation of a temper of mind, 
as that of universal love, under which the above act, and 
various other acts, are clearly comprehended. 

2. That it be somehow signified to be the will of God, 
that this act be performed. Without this intimation, every 
act that is described, or even held up for our reprobation, 
might be quoted as obligatory. 

3. That it be signified, that we are included within the 
number to whom the command is addressed. Otherwise, 
all the commandments, to the patriarchs and prophets, 
whether ceremonial, symbolical, or individual, would be 
binding upon every one who might read them. And hence, 
in general, whosoev^ urges upon us any duty, as the com- 
mand of God, revealed in the Bible, must show that Goa 
has, somewhere, commanded that action to be done, and 
that he has commanded us to do it. 



144 HOW WE ARE TO ASCERTAIN 

This principle will exclude, — 

L Every thing which is merely history. Much of the 
Bible contains a mere nan-ative of facts. For the truth of 
this narrative, the veracity of the Deity is pledged. We 
may derive from the account of God's dealings, lessons of 
instruction to guide us in particular cases ; and, from the 
evil conduct of men, matter of warning. But the mere 
fact, that any thing has been done, and recorded in the 
Scripture, by no means places us under obligation to 
do it. 

2. It excludes from being obligatory upon all, what has 
been commanded, but which can be shown to have been 
intended only for individuals, or for nations, and not for the 
whole human race. Thus many commands are recorded in 
the Scriptures, as having been given to individuals. Such 
was the command to Abraham, to offer up his son; to 
Moses, to stand before Pharaoh ; to Samuel, to anoint Saul 
and David ; and a thousand others. Here, evidently, the 
Divine direction was exclusively intended for the individual 
to whom it was given. No one can pretend that he is 
commanded to offer up his son, because Abraham was so 
commanded. 

Thus, also, many of the commands of God in the Old 
Testament were addressed to nations. Such were the 
directions to the Israelites to take possession of Canaan ; to 
make war upon the surrounding nations ; to keep the cere- 
monial law; and so of various other instances. Now of 
such precepts, it is to be observed, 1. They are to be 
obeyed only at the time and in the manner in which they 
were commanded. Thus, the Jews, at present, would have 
no right, in virtue of the original command, to expel the 
Mahometans from Palestine; though the command to 
Joshua was a sufficient warrant for expelling the Canaan- 
ites, at the time in which it was given. 2. They are of 
force only to those to whom they were given. Thus, sup- 
posing the ceremonial law was not polished; as it was 
given specially to Jews, and to no one else, it would bind 
no one but Jews now. Supposing it to be abolished, it of 
course now binds no one. For if, when in force, it was oh- 



OUR DUTY FROM THE SCRIPTURES. 145 

llgatory on no one but the Jeios, and was nothing lo any one 
eke ; when it is abolished, as to them, it is nothing to any 
one. Such is the teaching of St. Paul on this subject. 

3. It would exclude whatever was done by inspired men, 
if it was done without the addition of being somehow com- 
manded. Thus, the New Testament was manifestly hi- 
tended for the whole human race, and at all times ; and it 
was N^aitten by men who were inspired by God to teach us 
His will. But still, their example is not binding jper se ; 
that is, we are not under obligation to perfonn an act, simply 
because they have done it. Thus, Paul and the other apos- 
tles kept the Feast of Pentecost ; but this imposes no such 
obligation upon us. Paul cii'cumcised Timothy ; but this 
imposes no obligation upon us to do likewise: for upon 
another occasion he did not circumcise Titus. The ex- 
amples of inspired men in the New Testament would, 
unless exception be made, prove the lawfulness of an act ; 
but it could by no means establish its obligatoriness. 

This principle will include as obligatory, — 

1 . Whatever has been enjoined as the will of God upon 
man as man, m distinction fi'om what has been enjoined 
upon men as individuals or as nations. The command 
may be given us, 1. By God himself, as when he proclaimed 
his law from Mount Sinai ; or, 2. By the Mediator Christ 
Jesus ; or, 3. By any pei-sons divinely commissioned to 
instruct us in the will of God ; as prophets, apostles, or 
evangelists. This includes, as obligatory on the conscience, 
simply what is proved to be intended, according to the 
established principles of interpretation. But it by no 
means includes any thing which man may infer from what 
IS thus intended. Any idea which man adds to the idea 
given in the Scriptures, is the idea of man, and has no 
more obligation on the conscience of his fellow men, than 
any other idea of man. 

But it may be asked, granting that nothing but a Divine 
''.ommand is obligatory on the conscience, yet, as general 
and particular commandments in the Scriptures are Iie- 
cjuently, in a considerable degi'ee, blended together, how 
may we learn to distinguish that part which is obligatory 
13 



146 HOW WE ARE TO ASCERTAIN 

iipori us, from that which is in its nature local and peculiar? 
in attempting to answer this question, I would suggest, — 

That the distinction of nations or individuals is nowhere 
adverted to in the New Testament. Its instructions are 
clearly intended for men of all ages and nations ; and hence 
they never involve any thing either local or peculiar, but are 
univei^ally binding upon all. The question must therefore 
refer to the Old Testament. 

If we confine ourselves, then, to the Old Testament, this 
question may be decided on the following principles : 

1. In by far the greater number of cases, we shall be 
able to decide, by reference to the nature of the Jewish 
commonwealth ; a temporary or preparatory dispensation, 
which was to cease when that to which it was preparatory 
had appeared. 

2. The New Testament, being thus intended for the 
whole human race, and being a final revelation of the will 
of God to man, may be supposed to contain all the moral 
precepts, both of natural religion and of the Old Testa- 
ment, together with whatever else it was important to our 
salvation that we should know. If, then, a revelation has 
been made in the Old Testament, which is repeated in the 
New Testament, we shall be safe in making the later reve- 
lation the criterion, by which we shall judge respecting the 
precepts of the earlier. That is to say, no precept of the 
Old Testament, which is not either given to man as man, 
or which is not either repeated, or its obligations acknowl- 
edged, under the new dispensation, is binding upon us at 
the present day. This principle is, I think, avowed, in 
substance, by the Apostle Paul, in various places in his 
Epistles. While he repeatedly urges the moral precepts 
of the Old Testament, as of unchanging obligation, he 
speaks of every thing else, so far as moral obligation is 
concerned, as utterly annihilated. 

Such, then, are the means afforded to us by our Creator, 
for acquiring a knowledge of our duty. They are, first, 
natural religion ; second, the Old Testament or a dispen- 
sation of law ; third, the Gospel, a remedia' dispensation, 
or a dispensation of grace. 



OUR DUTY FROM THE SCRIPTURES. 147 

The relation existing between our moral power, and 
these means of moral cultivation, may, I suppose, be stated 
somewhat as follows : 

1. By conscience, we attain a feeling of moral obliga- 
tion towarc s the various beings to whom we are related. 
The elements of this feeling are developed as soon as we 
come to the knowledge of the existence and attributes of 
those beings, and the relation in which we stand to them. 
Such elements are, the feeling of obligation of reciprocity 
to man, and of universal love and obedience to our Creator. 

2. In order to illustrate the relations in which we stand 
to other beings, created and uncreated, as well as to teach 
us His character and His will concerning us, God has given 
us other means of instruction. 

1. He has so an^nged and governed all the events of 
this world, as to illustrate His character by His dealings 
with men ; and He has given us powers, by which we 
may, if we will, acquire the knowledge thus set before us 
The fact that we may acquire this knowledge of the will 
of God, and that we are so constituted as to feel that we 
ought to do the will of God, renders us responsible for 
obedience to all the light which we may acquire. 

2. In the utter failure of this mode of instruction to 
reclaim men, God has seen fit to reveal His will to us by 
language. Here the truth is spread before us, without the 
necessity of induction from a long and previous train of 
reasoning. This knowledge of the will of God, thus 
obtained, renders man responsible for the additional light 
thus communicated. 

In the same manner, when this means failed to pro- 
duce any important moral result, a revelation has been 
made, instmctino- us still farther concernina; our duties to 

JO o 

God, His character and will ; and, above all, informing us 
of a new relation in which the Deity stands to us, and of 
those new conditions of being under which we are placed. 
And we are, in consequence of our moral constitution, 
rendered responsible for a conduct corresponding to all this 
additional moral light, and consequent moral obligation. 
Now, if it be remembered that we are under obligations, 



148 now WE ARE TO ASCERTAIN 

greater than we can estimate, to obey the will of God, by 
what manner soever signified, and that we are under obli- 
gation, therefore, to obey Him, if he had given us no other 
intimation of His will, than merely the monition of con- 
science, unassisted by natural or revealed religion, how 
greatly must that obligation be increased, when these addi- 
tional means of information are taken into the account ! 
And, if the guilt of our disobedience be in proportion to the 
knowledge of our duty, and if that knowledge of our duty 
be so great that we cannot readily conceive how, con- 
sistently with the conditions of our being, it could have 
been greater, we may judge how utterly inexcusable must 
be every one of our transgressions. Such does the Bible 
represent to be the actual condition of man ; and hence it 
every where treats him as under a just and awful condem- 
nation ; a condemnation from which there is no hope of 
escape, but by means of the special provisions of a reme- 
dial dispensation. 

It belongs to theology to treat of the nature of this 
remedial dispensation. We shall, therefore, attempt no 
exhibition, either of its character or its provisions, beyond 
a simple passing remark, to show its connections with our 
present subject. 

The law of God, as revealed in the Scriptures, reprer 
sents our eternal happiness as attainable upon the siniple 
ground of perfect obedience, and perfect obedience upon 
the principles already explained. But this, in our present 
state, is manifestly unattainable. A single sin, both on the 
ground of its violation of the conditions on which our 
future happiness was suspended, as well as by the effects 
which it produces upon our whole subsequent moral char 
acter, and our capacity for virtue, renders our loss of hap- 
piness inevitable. Even after reformation, our moral at- 
tainment must fall short of the requirements of the law 
of God, and thus present no claim to the Divine favor. 
For this reason, our salvation is made to depend upon the 
obedience and merits of another. But we are entitled to 
hope for salvation upon the ground of the merit of Christ, 
solely upon the condition of yielding Qurselves up In entire 



OUR DUTY I ROM THE SCRIPTURES. 149 

obedience to the whole law of God. " He that saith, 1 
know Him, and keepeth not His commandments, is a liar, 
and the truth is not in him." John ii. 4. And hence a 
knowledge of the law of God is of just as great importance 
to us under a remedial dispensation, as under a dispensa- 
tion of law ; not on the ground that we are to be saved 
by keeping it without sin ; but on the ground that, unless 
the will of Goc^ he the habitually controlling motive of all 
our conduct, we are destitute of the elements ol that char- 
acter, to wnich the blessings of the remedial dispensation 
are promised. Hence, under the one dispensation, as well 
as under the other, though on different grounds, the knowl- 
edge of the law of God is necessary to our happiness both 
heitj and hereafter. 
13* 



151 



BOOK SECOND. 



PRACTICAL ETHICS. 



In the preceding pages it has been my design to illus- 
trate the moral constitution of man, and to point out the 
sources from which that truth emanates, which is addressed 
to his moral constitution. My design in the present book 
is, to classify and explain some of the principal moral laws 
under which God has placed us in our present state. We 
shall derive these laws from natural or from revealed religion, 
or from both, as may be most convenient for our purpose. 

The Scriptures declare that the whole moral law is con- 
tained in the single word Love. 

The beings to whom man is related in his present state, 
are, so far as this subject is concerned, God his Creator, and 
man his fellow-creature. Hence the moral obligations of 
men are of two kinds; first. Love to God, or Piety; 
second. Love to Man, or Morality. 

This book will, therefore, be divided into two parts, in 
which those two subjects will be treated of in their order 



152 



PART 1. 

LOVE TO GOD, OR PIETY. 

CHAPTER FIRST. 

THE GENERAL OBLIGATION TO SUPKEME LOVE TO GOD. 

The scriptural precept on this subject may be found 
recorded in various passages. It is in these words : " Thou 
shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with 
all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy 
strength." See Matthew xxii, 37 ; Mark xii, 30 • Luke 
X, 27. 

In order to illustrate this precept, I shall consider, first, 
the relation which exists between us and the Deity ; sec- 
ondly, the rights and obligations which that relation imposes ; 
and, thirdly, the facts in our constitution which show that 
these are manifestly the law of our being. 

I. The relation which exists between GoJ and us. 

1. He is our Creator and Preserver. A few years since, 
and we had no existence. Within a few more years, and 
this whole system, of which we form a part, had no exist- 
ence. Over our own existence, neither we, nor any created 
thing, has any more than the semblance of power. We are 
upheld in being by the continued act of Omnipotence. Not 
only we, ourselves, but every faculty which we and which 
all creatures enjoy, was created, and is continually upheld, 
by the same Creator. Nor this alone ; all the circum- 
stances by which we are surrounded, and all the modifica- 
tions of external nature, of what sort soever they may be, 
whether physical, intellectual, social, or moral, are equally 
created and sustained by God, and derive their powers to 



OBLIGATION TO THE LOVE OF GOD. 15^ 

render us happy, or wise, or good, purely from his provident 
care, and from the exertion of his omnipotent and omni- 
present goodness. The relation, therefore, existing between 
the Deity and us, is that of dependence, more profound, 
universal, and absolute, than we are able adequately to com- 
prehend, upon a Being, absolutely and essentially inde- 
pendent, omniscient, omnipotent, and all -providing. 

2. The Deity has revealed himself to us, as a Being m 
whom are united, by the necessity of his existence, every 
perfection of which the human mind can conceive, and every 
perfection that can possibly exist, how much soever they 
may transcend the powers of our conception. To Him be- 
long, from the necessity of His being, almighty power, om- 
niscient wisdom, unchanging veracity, inflexible justice, 
transcendent purity, illimitable benevolence, and universal 
love. Not only does He treasure up within Himself all 
that can be conceived of every perfection, but He is the 
exhaustless fountain, from which emanates all of these at- 
tributes, that exists throughout this wide creation. As 
every object that we see in nature, is seen only by its re- 
flecting rays of the sun, so every exhibition of goodness 
which we behold in creatures, is nothing but the reflection 
of the perfections of Him who is the Father of Lights, with 
whom is neither variableness nor the shadow of a turning. 
The relation, therefore, in this respect, which exists between 
us and the Creator, is that which exists between beings whom 
He has formed to admire and love all these perfections, and 
the Uncreated Being, in whom they all exist, in a degree in- 
finitely surpassing all that it is in our power to conceive. 

3. This creative power, and this incomprehensible wis- 
dom, have been exerted in obedience to all these tran- 
scendent moral perfections, for the production of our best 
good, our highest temporal and eternal happiness ; nay, 
they have been as fully exerted in behalf of our race, as 
though there were no other race in existence ; and in be- 
half of each one of us, as though each individual were the 
onlv being created, within this illimitable universe. And 
upon aii this exertion of goodness towards us, we have not 
the semblance of a claim ; for God was under no manner 
'^f obligation to create us, much less, to create us capable 



154 OBLIGATION TO THE LOVE OF GOD. 

of thai happiness which we enjoy. The relation, therefore, 
in this respect, existing between us and the Deity, is that 
between beings who, without any claim whatever, are, at 
every moment, receiving the results of the exercise of every 
conceivable perfection, from a Being who is moved thus to 
conduct towards them, by nothing but His own independent 
goodness. 

11 . From these relations, existing between creatures ana 
the Creator, there arise various rig-A^s of the Creator^ and 
various obligations of the creature. 

Every one, who will reflect upon this subject, must be 
convinced, that, inasmuch as these relations are entirely 
beyond the range of human analogies, and also manifestly 
beyond the grasp of finite conception, they must involve 
obligations, in their very nature more profound and univer- 
sal, than we can adequately comprehend ; and that, there- 
fore, no conception of ours can possibly transcend their 
solemnity and awflilness. As, in our present state, we are 
so httle able to understand them, or even to inquire after 
them, we see the need of instruction concerning them, from 
Him, who alone, of all beings that exist, can fathom theii 
depth, or measure their immensity. Let us, therefore, in- 
quire. What are the claims which, in his revealed word, God 
asserts over us, and what are the obligations which, in his 
sight, bind us to Him ? 

1. By virtue of his relation to us as Creator, he asserts 
over us the right of unlimited possession. Inasmuch as we 
are Ms creatures, we are his in the highest and most exten- 
sive sense, in which we can conceive of the idea of posses- 
sion. Neither we ourselves, nor any thing which we seem 
to possess, are our own. Even our wills are not our own, 
but he claims that we shall only will precisely what He 
wills. Our faculties, of what sort soever, are not our own. 
He claims that, from the commencement of our existence, 
vhey be used precisely in the manner, for the purposes, 
and within the limits, that He shall direct. Not only does 
God assert this right in his word, but we find that he ac- 
tually exercises it. Without regard to what we will. He 
does his pleasure, in the armies of heaven and among the 
inhabitants of the earth. He takes from us health, posses- 



OBLIGATION TO THE LOVE OF GOD. 155 

sioiis, Iriends, faculties, life, and He giveth not account of 
any of his matters. That is, he manifestly acts upon the 
principle, that He is the Sovereign and rightful Proprietor, 
both of ourselves, and of all that we seem to ourselves to 
possess. 

And, thus, on the other hand, God asserts that we are all 
under obligations, greater and more solemn than we can 
possibly conceive, to render to Him that entire obedience 
and submission, which his essential right over us renders 
manifestly his due. 

This right, and the con*espondent obligation, have re- 
spect to two classes of duties. The first class, is that which 
respects simply our relations to him, and which would be 
obligatory upon us, although each one of us were the only 
created being in the universe. The second class of duties 
respects our fellow-creatures. If we could suppose moral 
creatures to exist without a Creator, there would yet be 
duties which, fi'om their constitution as moral creaturesj 
they would owe to each other. But, inasmuch as every 
creature is the creature of God, He has made the duties 
which they owe to each other, a part of their duty to Him. 
That is to say, he requires us, who are his creatures, and 
who are under universal obligations to him, to treat our 
fellow-creatures, who are also his creatures, and under his 
protection, in such a manner as he shall direct. He is the 
Father of us all, and he requires that every one of his 
children conduct himself towards others, who are also his 
children, as he shall appoint. And, hence, the duties 
which are required of us to our fellow-creatures, are required 
of us under a twofold obligation. First, that arising from 
our relation to God, and, secondly, that arising fi'om our 
relation to our fellows. And, hence, there is not a single 
act which we are under obligation to perform, which we 
are not also under obligation to perform from the principle 
of obedience to our Creator. Thus the obligation to act 
religiously, or piously, extends to the minutest action of our 
lives, and no action of any sort whatever can be, in the 
full acceptation of the term, viituous, that is, be entitled 
to the praise of God, which does not involve in its motives 
the temper of filial obedience to the Deity. And still more, 



156 OBLIGATION TO THE LOVE OF GOD 

as this obligation is infinitely superior to any other that can 
be conceived, an action performed from the conviction of 
any other obhgation, if this obhgation be excluded, fails, in 
infinitely the most important respect; and must, by the 
whole amount of this deficiency, expose us to the condem- 
nation of the law of God, whatever that condemnation 
may be. 

And, once more, we are taught, in the Scriptures, that 
the relation in which we stand to the Deity, places us 
under such obligations, that, while our whole and uninter- 
rupted service is thus due to God, we can, after it is all 
performed, in no manner bring him under any obligation to 
us. This I suppose to be the meaning intended by our 
Savior, in the parable, Ijoke xvii, 7 — 10 : "But which of 
you, having a servant, (a slave,) ploughing or feeding 
cattle, will say unto him, by and by, wl^en he is come from 
the field, Go and sit down to meat ; and will not rather 
say unto him. Make ready wherewith 1 may sup, and gird 
thyself and serve me, until I have eaten and drunken ; and 
afterwards thou shalt eat and drink? Doth he thank that 
servant because he hath done the things that were com- 
manded him 1 I suppose not. So, likewise ye, when ye 
have done all the' things which are commanded you, say. 
We are unprofitable servants, we have done that which was 
our duty to do." That is, the obligation of the servant is 
not fiilfilled by doing any one thing, but only by occupying 
his whole time, and exerting his whole power, to its full 
extent, in doing whatever is commanded him. And when 
all this is done, such is the relation between the parties, 
that he has placed the Master, God, under no obligation ; 
he has only discharged a duty ; he has merely paid a debt ; 
nor is it possible, from the nature of the relation, that he 
should ever do any thing more. Such, I think, eveiy one 
will acknowledge, upon reflection, to be the relation exist- 
ing between us and our Creator. 

And, hence, we see, that a failure in duty to God, on 
the part of the creature, must be remediless. At every 
moment, he is under obligation to the full amount of his 
ability ; and, when this whole amount of obligation is dis- 
charged, he has then simply fulfilled his duty. Hence, no 



OBLmATION TO THE LOVE OF GOD. 157 

act can have any retrospective effect ; that is, it cannot 
supply the deficiencies of any other act. This would be 
the case, even if his moml powers were not injured by sin. 
But, if we add this other element, and reflect, that, by sin, 
our moral powers are permanently injured ; that is, our 
capacity for virtue is diminished, according to the laws of 
our constitution ; by how much more is it evident, that, 
under a system of mere law, a single failure in our duty to 
God must be of necessity fatal ! What shall we then say 
of a life, of which every act is, when strictly considered^ by 
confession, a moral failure ? 

2. God has revealed himself to us as a Being endowed 
with every attribute of natural and moral excellence ; and, 
in virtue of the relation which, on this account, he sustains 
to us, a new form of obligation is imposed upon us. 

We are evidently formed to love whatever is beautiful, 
and to admii'e whatever is great in power, or excellent in 
wisdom. This is too evident to need illustration. But 
we are so made as to love and admire still more the cause 
from which all these emanate. We admire the tragedies of 
Shakspeare, and the epic of Milton, but bow much more 
the minds in which these works were conceived, and by 
which they were executed. Now, all that we see in 
creation, whether of beauty, or loveliness, or grandeur, is 
the work of the Creator. It all existed in His conceptions, 
before it existed in fact. Nor this alone. The powers by 
which we perceive, and are affected by, these exliibitions, 
all proceed from Hiin, and both the external qualities and 
the internal susceptibilities are upheld by his all-sustaining 
energy. Thus, every feeling of love or of admiration 
which we exercise, involves, from the constitution of our 
nature, the obligation to exercise these feelings, in a higher 
d(3gree towards Him who is the author of all. But, as He 
IS the author, not only of whatever is lovely or glorious that 
we see, but of all that we have ever seen ; not only of all 
that we have ev^er seen, but of all that has ever existed ; 
not only of all that has evc^r existed, but of all that ever can 
exist ; ^ by how much are we under obligation to love Him 
better than all tilings else that we know! and by how 

14 



158 OBLIGATION TO THE LOVE OF^OD 

much more than any individual form of excellence, witii 
which it is possible for us ever to become acquainted ! 

Again, God reveals himself to us as the possessor of 
every moral attribute, in infinite perfection. In him aie 
united infinitely more than we or other created beings can 
conceive, of justice, holiness, mercy, compassion, goodness 
and truth. Now, we are manifestly formed to love and 
admire actions emanating from such attributes, as they are 
exhibited on earth, and specially the moral characters of 
those by whom such actions are performed. We are not 
only formed to do this, but we are specially foimed to do 
it. We are created with an impulsion to exercise these 
affections, and we are conscious that it is the highest impul- 
sion of our nature. Now, whatever we see of moral excel- 
lence on earth, springs from Him, as its first and original 
cause. He created the circumstances under which it 
exists, and created, with all its powers, the being by 
whom it is displayed. Nor this alone. He possesses, 
essentially, and in an infinite degree, and without the possi- 
bility of imperfection, every moral attribute. If, then, the 
highest impulsion of our nature teaches us to love and 
venerate these attributes, even as they are displayed in 
their imperfection on earth, by how much more are we 
under obligation to love these attributes, as they are pos- 
sessed by our Father who is in heaven ! If a single act of 
justice deserves our veneration, how much more should we 
venerate that justice which has governed this universe 
without the shadow of a spot, from eternity ! If a single 
act of purity deserves our regard, with what awe should we 
adore the holiness of Him, in whose sight the heavens are 
unclean ! If a single act of benevolence deserve our love, 
with what affection should we bow before Him, who, from 
eternity, has been pouring abroad a ceaseless flood of bless- 
edness, over the boundless universe by which Jle is sur- 
rounded ! 

And yet more, I think it is manifest that we are so con- 
stituted as to be under obligations to love such attributes as 
I have mentioned, entirely aside from the consideration of 
their connection with ourselves. We admire justice and 



OBLIGATION TO THE LOVE OF GOD. 159 

benevolence in men who existed ages ago, and in countries 
with which we have no interests in common. And thug 
these obhgations to love and adore these attributes in the 
Deity, would exist in full force, iiTespective of the fact of 
our receiving any benefit from them. And our Creator 
might, and justly would, require of us all these affections 
of which I have spoken, did these moral attributes exist m 
some other being besides himself. The obligation is sus- 
tained upon the simple consideration, that we are constituted 
such moral beings as we are, and that another Being exists, 
endowed with attributes, in this particular manner, coiTe- 
sponding to our moral constitution. By how much is this 
obligation increased, by the consideration that He, in whom 
these attributes exist, stands to us in the relation of Creator! 

3. As, by the constitution of our moral nature, we are 
under obligation to love whatever is morally excellent, irre- 
spective of any benefit which we may derive firom it our- 
selves, so, when this moral excellence is intentionally the 
source of happiness to us, we are under the additional 
obligation to gratitude, or a desire to do something which 
shall please Him, fi'om whom our happiness has proceeded. 
This obligation is so manifestly recognized as one of the 
instinctive impulses of our nature, that, whilst we merely 
esteem him who acts in obedience to it, the neglect of it, 
without the exhibition of the positively opposite temper, is 
always met by the feeling of intense moral reprobation. 

Now, since whatever of favor we receive from others, is 
derived from them merely as second causes, it all originates, 
essentially, from the First and All-pervading Cause. What- 
ever gratitude we feel, therefore, towards creatures, is 
really, and in the highest possible sense, due to God, from 
whom it all really emanates. 

But how small is that portion of the happiness which we 
enjoy, which is confeiTcd by the favor of our fellows ! 
Immeasurably the greater part is the direct gift of our 
Creator. The obligation to gratitude, is in proportion to 
the amount of benefits conferred, and the disinterestedness 
of the goodness fi'om which they have proceeded. By these 
elements, let us estimate the amount of obligation of grat- 
itude to God. 



160 OBLIGATION TO THE LOVE OF GOD. 

As the Deity is essentially independent of all his crea- 
tures, and as He has created us from nothing, and as He 
has created, also, all the circumstances under which we 
exist. He can be under no sort of obhgation to us, nor can 
our relation to Him ever be of any other sort, than that of 
the recipients of favor, which we can by no possibility 
merit. 

Under such circumstances, a sensation of happiness, for 
a single moment, even if it terminated with that single 
moment, would be a course for gratitude so long as it could 
be remembered. How much more, if this form of happi- 
ness continued throughout our whole extent of being ! 
The enjoyment of one form of happiness, say of that de- 
rived from a single sense, would deserve our gratitude ; how 
much more that derived from all our senses, and specially 
that derived from the combination of them all ! The 
enjoyment of ever so transient a sensation of intellectual 
happiness, would deserve our gratitude ; how much more 
that of a permanent constitution, which was a source of 
perpetual intellectual happiness, and specially a constitution 
involving a great variety of forms of intellectual happiness ! 
Thusj also, a single emotion of moral happiness would 
deserve our gratitude ; how much more a constitution 
formed for perpetual moral happiness ! And yet more, if 
these forms of happiness, taken singly, would be each a 
cause of perpetual and increasing gratitude, how much 
more a constitution, by which the very relations which they 
sustain to each other, become a source of additional and 
increased happiness ! Add to this, that the external world 
is itself adjusted to all these powers and susceptibilities of 
man, and each adjustment is manifestly intended for our 
best good. And add to this, that such are the conditions 
of being under which we are placed, that, if we only use 
these powers according to the will of God, and to the 
nature which He has given us, that is, in such a way as to 
promote our highest happiness here, we shall be advanced 
to a state of happiness more excellent and glorious than 
any of which we can conceive ; and we shall be fixed in ii 
unchangeably and for ever. Now, if a single act of disin- 
terested goodness, and undeserved favor, deserve our grati 



OBLIGATION TO THE LOVE OF GOD. 161 

tude foi- ever, what limits can be set to the intensity of 
that grateful adoration, which should, throughout our whole 
being, pervade our bosoms, towards Him from whom every 
blessing is perpetually flowing, in so exhaustless a flood of 
unfathomable goodness ! 

Such, then, are the obligations to love and gratitude, 
which, in addition to that of obedience, we owe to our 
Creator. But it deserves to be remarked, that these forms 
of obligation reciprocally involve each other. For if 
we possess that temper of entire obedience, which springs 
from a recognition of the universal right of the Creator 
over us, we shall dedicate our affections to Him, as entirely 
as our will ; that is, we shall love only what he commands, 
and just as he has commanded ; that is, we shall not only 
do his will, but we shall love to do it, not only on account 
of what he is in himself, but also on account of what he 
is and always has been to us. And, on the other hand, if 
we love his character and attributes as they deserve, we 
shall love to perform actions which are in harmony with 
those attributes ; that is, which spring from the same dis- 
positions in ourselves. In other words, we shall love to 
act in perfect accordance with the will of God. And still 
more, if we are penetrated with a proper conviction of the 
obligations of gratitude under which we are placed, we 
shall love to please our Supreme Benefactor ; and the only 
way in which we can do this, is, by implicitly obeying his 
commands. 

It was remarked^ in a former part of this work, that hap- 
piness consists in the exercise of our sensitiveness upon its 
appropriate objects. Now, that man has moral sentiments, 
that is, that he is formed to derive happiness from the con- 
templation of moral qualities, and specially from the love 
of those beings in whom these moral qualities reside, is too 
evident to need argument. It is also evident, that this is 
the highest and most exalted form of happiness of which 
he is susceptible. But created beings, and the moral 
quahties of created beings, are not the objects adapted to 
^is moral sensitiveness. This power of our being, finds its 
appropriate object in nothing less than in supreme, and 
unlimited, and infinite moral perfection. And yet more, 
14 # 



16^ OBLIGATION tO THE LOVE OF GOD. 

the moral susceptibility of happiness expands by exercise^ 
and the uncreated object to which it is directed, is, by 
necessity, unchangeable, eternal and infinite. A provision 
is thus made for the happiness of man, eternal and illimit- 
able ; that is to say, not only is it evident, from the con- 
stitution of man, that he is made to love God, but also that 
he is made to love Him infinitely more than any thing else ; 
to be happier fi*om loving Him than firom loving any thing 
else ; and, also, to be more and more intensely happy, from 
loving Him, throughout eternity. 

Thus, in general, from the relations which we sustain to 
God, we are under more imperative obligations than we 
are able to conceive, to exercise towards him that temper 
of heart, which is, perhaps, in the language of men, best 
expressed by the term, a filial disposition ; that is, a dis- 
position to universal obedience, pervaded by the spirit of 
supreme and grateful affection. This temper of heart is 
that generically denominated in the Scriptures, faith. In 
the New Testament, it is somewhat modified by the rela- 
tions in which we stand to God, in consequence of the pro- 
visions of the remedial dispensation. 

Now, all these dispositions would be required of us, if 
we were sinless beings, and possibly no others would be 
required. The same are manifestly our duty, after we have 
sinned ; for our sin changes neither the character of God, 
nor His claim upon our obedience and affection. A child 
who has done wrong, is not under any the less imperative 
obligation to exercise a filial disposition towards a parent. 
But, suppose a creature to have sinned, it is manifest, that 
he would be under obligations to exercise another moral 
disposition. He ought to regret his fault, not on account 
of its consequences to himself, but on account of the viola- 
tion of moral obligation, which is the essence of its guilti- 
ness. Acknowledging its utter wrongfulness, justifying 
God, and taking all the blame of his act upon himself, he 
ought to hate his own act, and from such feelings to the 
act, as well as from the temper of filial obedience to God, 
commence a life of moral purity. Such is repentance. 
This is the temper of heart, which the Scriptures teach ns, 
that God requires of us as sinners. 



OBLIGATION TO THE LOVE OF GOD. 163 

III. Such, then, is the obligation under which, by our 
creation, we stand to God. It would be easy to show that 
this is the only principle of action suited to our nature, 
under the present constitution. 

For, 1. As we hve under a constitution of law, that is, 
under which every action is amenable to law, and since to 
every action is affixed, by omnipotent power and unsearch- 
able wisdom, rewards or punishments, both in this life 
and also in the other, and, as theso consequences can, 
by no power of oui-s, be severed from the action, it is man- 
ifest, that we can attain to happiness, and escape from 
misery, only by perfectly obeying the will of our Creator. 
And yet more, since we are creatures, endowed with will, 
and the power of choice, we never can be completely 
happy, unless we act as we choose ; that is, unless we 
obey because we love to obey. Hence, from the elements 
of our constitution, it is evident, we can be happy on no 
other principles than those of perfect obedience to God, 
and obedience emanating from, and pervaded by, love. 

2. The same truth is evident, from a consideration of the 
relations which every individual sustains to the whole race 
of man. It manifestly enters into the constitution under 
which we exist, that every individual shall have a power 
over society, both for good and for evil, so far as we can 
see, in its nature illimitable. That such is the fact will be 
evident to every one who will reflect for a moment upon 
the results emanating from the lives of St. Paul, Luther, 
Howard, Clarkson, or Wilberforce ; and of Alexander, 
Julius Caesar, Voltaire, Lord Byron, or Napoleon. Now, 
it is only necessary to recollect, that the being, possessed of 
this power, is by nature utterly ignorant of the friture ; 
wholly incapable, even during life, and much more after 
death, of controlling and directing the consequences of his 
actions ; and still more, that he is fallible, — that is, liable 
not only to en' from ignorance, but also from a wrong 
moral bias ; and we must be convinced that the exercise 
of this power could never be safe for his fellows, unless it 
were under the supreme direction of a Being who knew 
the end from the beginning, and who was by his very 
nature incapable of wrong. 



164 



OBLIGATION TO THE LOVE OF GOD. 



From what has been said, it will follow, that our duty to 
God forbids, — 

1. Idolatry, — that is, rendering divine homage to any 
other being than the Deity. 

2. Rendering obedience to any creature, in opposition to 
the will of the Creator. 

3. Yielding obedience to our own will, or gratifying our 
own desires, in opposition to His will. 

4. Loving any thing which He has forbidden. 

5. Loving any thing which He has allowed us to love, 
ill a manner and to a degree that He has forbidden. 

6. Loving any thing created in preference to Him. 

Each of these topics is susceptible of extended illustra- 
tion. As, however, they are discussed in full in works on 
theology, to which science they more particularly belong, 
we shall leave them with this simple enumeration. 

In treating of the remainder of this subject, we shall, 
therefore, consider only the means by which the love of 
God, or piety, may be cultivated. These are three : 1st. A 
spirit of devotion. 2d. Prayer. 3d. The observance of 
the Sabbath. 



165 



CHAPTER SECOND. 

THE CULTIVATION OF A DEVOTIONAL SPIRIT. 

From what has ah-eady been said, it will be seen that the 
relation which we sustain to God, imposes upon us the obli- 
gation of maintaining such an habitual temper towards Him, 
as shall continually incite us to do whatever will please Him. 
It is natural to suppose that our Creator would have placed 
us under such circumstances as would, from their nature, 
cultivate in us such a temper. Such we find to be the fact. 
We are surrounded by objects of knowledge, which not 
merely by their existence, but also by their ceaseless 
changes, remind us of the attributes of God, and of the ob- 
ligations under which we are placed to Him. A devotion- 
al spirit consists in making the moral use which is intended, 
of all the objects of intellection that come within our expe- 
rience or our observation. 

1. Our existence is dependent on a succession of 
changes, which are taking place at every moment in our- 
selves, over which we have no power whatever, but of 
which, each one involves the necessity of the existence and 
the superintending power of the Deity. The existence of 
the whole material universe is of the same nature. Now, 
each of these changes is, with infinite skill, adapted to the 
relative conditions of all the beings whom they affect ; and 
they are subjected to laws which are most evident expres- 
sions of almighty power, of unsearchable wisdom, and of 
exhaustless goodness. Now, were we merely intellectual 
beings, it would not be possible for us to consider any thing 
more than these laws themselves ; but, inasmuch as we are 
intellectual, and also moral beings, we are capable not only 
of considering the laws, but also the attributes of the Creator 
from whom such laws are the emanations. As eveiy thing 
which we can know teaches a lesson concerning God, if we 



166 THE CULTIVATION OF 

connect that lesson with every thing which we learn, every 
thing will be resplendent with the attributes of Deity. By 
using in this manner, the knowledge which is every where 
spread before us, we shall habitually cultivate a devout tem- 
per of mind. Thus, " the heavens will declare unto us the 
glory of God, and the firmament will show his handy-work : 
tiius day unto day will utter speech, and night unto night 
show forth knowledge of HimJ' 

2. Nor is this true of physical nature alone. The whole 
history of the human race teaches us the same lesson. The 
rewards of virtue, and the punishments of vice, as they arc 
beheld in the events which befall both individuals and 
nations, all exhibit the attributes of the Deity. It is He 
that '' stilleth the noise of the seas, the noise of their waves, 
and the tumult of the people." " The Lord reigneth, let 
the earth rejoice ; let the multitude of isles be glad thereof. 
Clouds and darkness are round about him ; righteousness 
and judgment are the habitation of his throne." His for- 
bearance and long-suffering, and at the same time His in- 
flexible justice, His love of right, and His hatred of wrong, 
are legibly written in every page of individual and national 
history. And hence it is, that every fact which we wit- 
ness in the government of moral beings, has a twofold chain 
of connections and relations. To the mere political econ- 
omist or the statesman, it teaches the law by which cause 
and effect are connected. To the pious man it also teaches 
the attributes of that Being, who has so connected causer 
and effect; and who, amidst all the intricate mazes of 
human motive and social organization, can'ies forward His 
laws with unchanging certamty and unerring righteousness. 
Now, it is by observing not merely the law, but the moral 
lesson derived from the law ; it is by observing not merely 
the connections of events with each other, but, also, their 
connection with the Great First Cause, that a devotional 
spmt is to be cultivated. 

And, hence, we see that knowledge of every kind, if suit- 
ably improved, has, in its very nature, a tendency to devo- 
tion. If we do not thus use it, we sever it from its most im- 
portant connections. We act simply as intellectual, and not 
as moral beings. We act contrary to the highest and most 



A DEVOTIONAL SPIRIT. 167 

noble principles of our constitution. And, hence, we see how 
progress in knowledge really places us under progressive 
obligations to improvement in piety. This should be home 
in mind by every man, and specially by every educated 
man. For this improvement of our knowledge, God holds 
us accountable. " Because they regard not the works of 
the Lord, nor comider the operations of his hand, there- 
fore will He destroy them." 

3. But if such are the obligations resting upon us, li'om 
our relation to the works of Nature and Providence, how 
much are these obligations increased by our knowledge of 
God, as it is presented to us by revelation 1 I suppose that 
a person acquainted with the laws of optics, who had al- 
ways stood with his back to the sun, might acquire much 
important knowledge of the nature of light, and of the path 
of the sun through the heavens, by reasoning from the re- 
flection of that light, observed in the surrounding creation. 
But how uncertain would be this knowledge, compared with 
that which he would acquire, by looking directly upon the 
sun, and tracing his path by his own immediate obser- 
vation ! So of revelation. Here, we are taught by lan- 
guage, that truth, which we otherwise could learn only by 
long and careful induction. God has here made known to 
us His attributes and character ; here He has recorded His 
law ; here He has written a portion of the history of our 
race, as a specimen of His providential dealings with men ; 
and here He has, more than all, revealed to us a remedial 
dispensation, by which our sins may be forgiven, and we 
be raised to higher and more glorious happiness than that 
which we have lost. It surely becomes us, then, specially 
to study the Bible, not merely as a book of antiquities, oi 
a choice collection of poetry, or an inexhaustible storehouse 
of wisdom ; but for the more important purpose of ascer- 
taining the character of God, and our relations to Him, and 
of thus cultivating towards Him those feelings of filial and 
reverential homage, which are so manifestly our duty, and 
which such contemplations are in their nature so adapted to 
foster and improve. 

4. A devout temper is also cultivated by the exercise of 
devotion. The more we exercise the feeling of veneration, 



168 THE CULTIVATION OF 

of love, of gi'atitude, and of submission towards God, the 
more profound, and pervading, and intense, and habitual, 
will these feelings become. And, unless the feelings them- 
selves be called into exercise, it will be in vain that we are 
persuaded that we ought to exercise them. It is one thing 
to be an admirer of devotion, and another thing to be really 
devout. It becomes us, therefore, to cultivate these feelings, 
by actually exercising towards God the very tempers of 
mind indicated by our circumstances, and our progressive 
knowledge. Thus, submission to His will, thankfulness for 
His mercies, trust in His providence, reliance on His power, 
and sorrow for our sins, should be, not the occasional exer- 
cise, but the habit of our souls. 

5. By the constitution of our nature, a most intimate 
connection exists between action and motive ; between the 
performance of an action and the principle from which it 
emanates. The one cannot long exist without the other. 
True charity cannot long exist in the temper, unless we 
perform acts of charity. Meditation upon goodness will 
soon become effete, unless it be strengthened by good works. 
So the temper of devotion will be useless ; nay, the profes- 
sion of it must, of necessity, be hypocritical, unless it produce 
obedience to God. By this alone is its existence known ; 
by this alone can it be successfully cultivated. The more 
perfectly our wills are subjected to the will of God, and our 
whole course of conduct regulated by His commands, the 
more ardent will be our devotion, and the more filial the 
temper from which our actions proceed. 

6. It is scarcely necessary to observe, that as penitence 
is a feeling resulting from a conviction of violated obligation, 
it is to be cultivated, not merely by considering the character 
of God, but also our conduct towards Him. The contrast 
between His goodness and compassion, and our ingratitude 
and rebellion, is specially adapted to fill us with humility 
and self-abasement, and also with sorrow for all our past 
transgressions. Thus said the prophet : " Wo is me, for I 
am a man of unclean lips ; and I dwell in the midst of a 
people of unclean lips ; for mine eyes have seen the King^ 
the Lord of Hosts r' 

Lastly. It is surely unnecessary to remark, that such a 



A DEVOTIONAL SPIRIT. 169 

life as this is alone suited to the character of man. If God 
have made us capable of deriving our highest happiness 
from Him, and have so constituted the universe around us as 
perpetually to lead us to this source of happiness, the most 
unreasonable, ungrateflil, and degrading, not to say the most 
guilty, course of conduct which we can pursue, must be, to 
neo^lect and abuse this, the most noble part of our constitu- 
tion, and to use the knowledge of the world around us for 
every other purpose than that for which it was created. 
Let every frivolous, thoughtless human being reflect what 
must be his condition, when he, whose whole thoughts are 
limited by created things, shall stand in the presence of 
Him, " before whose face the heavens and the earth shali 
flee away, and there be no place left for them 1" 



15 



no 



CHAPTER THIRD 



OF PRAYER. 



In the present chapter, we shall treat of the nature^ the 
ohiigation, and the utility, of prayer. 

I. The nature of prayer. 

Prayer is the direct intercourse of the spirit of man with the 
spiritual and unseen Creator. ^^ God is a spirit, and those 
that worship Him, must worship Him in spirit and in truth." 

It consists in the expression of our adoration, the ac- 
knowledgment of our obligations, the offering up of our 
thanksgivings, the confession of our sins, and in supplica- 
tion for the favors, as well temporal as spiritual, which we 
need; being always accompanied with a suitable temper 
of mind. 

This temper of mind presupposes, — 

1. A solemn conviction of the character and attributes 
of God, and of the relations which He sustains to us. 

2. A conviction of the relations which we sustain to 
Him, and of our obligations to Him. 

3. An affecting view of our sinfulness, helplessness, and 
misery. 

4. Sincere gratitude for all the favors which we have 
received. 

5. A fixed and undissembled resolution to obey the 
commands of God in future. 

6. Unreserved submission to all His will. 

7. Unshaken confidence in His veracity. 

8. Importunate desires that our petitions, specially for 
bpiritual blessings, should be granted. 

9. A soul at peace with all mankind. 

Itu3trations of all these dispositions, from the prayers 
recorded in the Holy Scriptures, as well as the precepts by 
which they are enforced, might be easily adduced. I pre- 



OF PRiYER. 171 

surae, however, they are unnecessary. I will only remark, 
that it is not asserted that all these dispositions are always 
to be in exercise at the same time, but only such of them 
as specially belong to the nature of our supplications. 

Inasmuch as we are dependent on God, not only for 
all the blessings which we derive directly fi'om His hands, 
but also for all those which arise from our relations to each 
other, it is manifestly proper that we confess our sins, and 
supplicate His favor, not only as individuals, but as 
•societies. Hence, prayer may be divided into individual, 
domestic and social. 

Individual Prayer. As the design of this institution is, 
to bring us, as individuals, into direct communion with 
God, to confess our personal infiiTnities, and to cultivate 
personal piety, it should be strictly in private. We are 
commanded to pray to our Father in secret. It should, 
moreover, be solemn, unreserved, and, in general, accom- 
panied with the reading of the Holy Scriptures. As, 
moreover, this direct communion with the unseen Creator, 
is intended to be the great antagonist force to the con- 
stant pressure of the things seen and temporal, it should be 
habitual and frequent. 

Domestic Prayer. As the relation sustained by parents 
and children, is the source of many and peculiar blessings ; 
as the relation involves peculiar responsibilities, in the ful- 
filment of which we all need special guidance and direction, 
tilers is a peculiar propriety in the acknowledgment of God, 
in connection with this relation. The importance of this 
duty is specially urged upon us, by its effect upon the 
young. It associates with religion all the recollections of 
childhood, and all the sympathies of home. It gives to 
parental advice the sanction of religion, and, in after life^ 
recalls the mind to a conviction of duty to God, with all 
the motives drawn from a father's care and a mother's 
tenderness. 

Social Prayer. Inasmuch as all our social and civil 
blessings are the gift of God, it is meet mat we should, as 
societies, meet to acknowledge them. This is one of ihe 
most important duties of the Sabbath day. It will, there- 



172 OF PRAYER. 

fore, be more fully treated of, under that branch of the 
subject. 

Since prayer is the offering up of our desh-es, &c., with 
a suitable temper of heart, it is manifest that the question 
whether a forni of prayer, or extemporary prayer, should 
be used, is merely one of expediency, and has no connec- 
tion with morals. We are under obligation to use that 
which is of the greatest spiritual benefit to the individual. 
Private prayer should, however, I think, be expressed in 
the words of the supplicant himself. 

II. The duty of prayer. 

The duty of prayer may be seen from the conditions of 
our beings ondfrom the Holy Scriptures. 

I. The conditions of our being. 

1. We are utterly powerless, ignorant of the future, 
essentially dependent at the present and for the future, and 
are miserably sinful. We need support, direction, happi- 
ness, pardon and purification. These can come from no 
other being than God, who is under no obligation to confer 
them upon us. What can be more manifestly proper, than 
that we should supplicate the Father of the universe for 
those blessings which are necessaiy, not only for our hap- 
piness, but for our existence, and that we should receive 
every favor with a devout acknowledgment of the terms on 
which it is bestowed ? 

2. Inasmuch as we are sinners, and have forfeited the 
blessings which we daily receive, what can be more suita- 
ble, than that we should humbly thank that Almighty 
power, from whom comes such an inexhaustible supply of 
goodness, to us so utterly undeserving? and what more 
obligatory, than to ask the pardon of our Creator, for those 
sins of omission and of commission, with which we are 
every hour justly chargeable ? 

3. Specially is this our duty; when we reflect, that this 
very exercise of habitual reliance upon God, is necessary 
to our happiness in our present state, and that the temper 
which it presupposes, is essential to our progi'ess in virtue. 

That such is the dictate of our moral constitution, is 
evident lirom the fact, that all men who have any notion 



OF PRAYER. 173 

of a Supseme Being, under any circumstances, acknowl- 
edge it as a duty, and, in some form or other, profess to 
practise it. And besides this, all men, even the most 
abandoned and profligate, when in danger, pray most 
eagerly. This has been the case with men who, in health 
and safety, scoif at religion, and ridicule the idea of moral 
obhgation. But it is evident, that it can be neither more 
proper nor more suitable to pray when we are in danger, 
than to pray at any other time ; for our relations to God 
are always the same, and we are always essentially de- 
pendent upon him for every thing, both temporal and 
spiritual, that we enjoy at the present, or hope for in the 
future. It is surely as proper to thank God for those 
mercies which ive receive every moment, as to deprecate 
those judgments hy which ive are occasionally alarmed. 

11. The duty of prayer, as taught in the Scriptures. 

The Scriptures treat of prayer, as a duty arising so im- 
mediately out of our relations to God, and our obligations 
to Him, as scarcely to need a positive precept. Every 
disposition of heart which we are commanded to exercise 
towards God, presupposes it. Hence, it is generally re- 
feiTed to, incidentally, as one of which the obligation is 
already taken for granted. Precepts, however, are not 
wanting, in respect to it. I here only speak of the general 
tendency of the Scripture instructions. 

1. It is expressly commanded : " Pray without ceasing" 
" In every thing giving thanks, for this is the will of God, 
in Chiist Jesus, concerning you." " In all things, by 
prayer and supplication, let your request be made known 
unto God." PhiL iv, 6. " I exhort tliat supplications 
and prayers, intercessions and giving of thanks, be made 
for all men : for this is good and acceptable in the sight of 
God, our Savior." 1 Tim. ii, 1 — 3. 

2. God declares it to be a principal condition on which 
He will bestow favors . "If any man lack wisdom, let him 
ash' of God, who giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth 
not, and it shall be given him." James i, 5. " Ask, and 
it shall be given you ; seek, and ye shall find ; knock, and 
it shall be opened unto you: for every one that asKeth 
receiveth, and he that seeketh findeth, and to him that 

15* 



174 OF PRAYER. 

knocketh it shall be opened. Or, what man is there of 
you, whom, if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone ^ 
or, if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent ? If ye, 
then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your chil 
dren, how much more shall your Father, that is in heaven; 
give good things to them that aslc him!" Mattheiv vii, 
7 — 11. Now, it is too obvious to need a remark, that 
God would not have connected so important consequences 
with prayer, unless He meant to inculcate it as a universal 
duty. 

3. The Scriptures make the habit of prayer the mark 
of distinction between the righteous and the wicked ; be- 
tween the enemies and the friends of God. Thus, the 
wicked say : " What is the Almighty, that we should serve 
Him ? or, what profit shall we have, if we call upon Him ?" 
Job xxi, 15. " The wicked, through the pride of his 
countenance, will not seek after God. God is not in all 
his thoughts." Psalms x, 4. On the contrary, righteous 
persons, those whom God approves, are specially designated 
as those who call upon Him. 

4. Examples of the prayers of good men, are, in the 
Scriptures, very abundant. In fact, a large portion of the 
Bible is made up of the prayers and praises of those whom 
God has held up for our imitation. To transcribe these, 
would be to transcribe a large portion of the sacred books. 

5. The Bible abounds with examples recorded by God, 
of special answers to prayer of every kind that can be 
conceived. There are examples of the successful prayer 
of individuals for temporal and for spiritual blessings, both 
for themselves and for others ; of individual prayers for 
nations, and of nations for themselves ; of uidividuals for 
societies, and of societies for individuals ; and, indeed, of 
men in all the circumstances in which they can be placed, 
for every blessing, and under every variety of relation. 
Now, what God has, at so great length, and in so great a 
variety of ways, encouraged us to do, must be not only a 
pnvilege, but a duty. 

In a word, the Bible teaches us, on this subject, that our 
relation to God is infinitely nearer, and more universal, than 
that m which we can possibly stand to any other being 



OF PRAYER. 175 

He allows us, with the simplicity and confiaence or 
children, to unbosom all our cares, to make known all our 
wants, and express all our thanks, with unreserved freedom 
to Him. He assures us, that this exercise, and the temper 
from which it springs, and which it cultivates, is most ac- 
ceptable to Him. And, having thus condescended to 
humble Himself to our situation. He holds us as most 
ungrateful, proud, insolent and sinful, if we venture to 
undertake any business, or receive any favor, without hold- 
ing direct and child-like communion wnth Him. 

6. Under the remedial dispensation, a special encourage- 
ment is given to prayer. We are there taught, that though 
we are unworthy of the blessings which we need, yet 
we may ask and receive, for the sake of the Mediator. 
" Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, He 
will give it you." The death of Christ is also held forth 
as our special ground of confidence in prayer : " He that 
spared not His own Son, but gave Him up for us all, how 
shall He not, with Him, freely give us all things ?" And, 
yet more, we are inforaied, that it is the special office of 
the exalted IMediator, to intercede for us before the throne 
of God. Greater encouragements than these, to prayer, 
could not possibly be conceived. 

ni. The utility of prayer. 

This may be shown, — 

1 . From the nature and attributes of God : He would 
not require any thing of us which was not for our good. ^ 

2. The utility of prayer is seen from the tempers of 
mind which it presupposes. We have already shown 
what these tempers of mind are. Now, it must be evident 
to eveiy one, that the habitual exercise of these dispositions 
must be, in the nature of the case, in the highest degree, 
beneficial to such creatures as we. 

3. The utility of prayer is also evident from its connec 
tion with our reception of favors from God. \^^y^ 

1. In the government of this world, God establishes 
such connections between cause and effect, or antecedent 
and consequent, as he pleases. He has a perfect right to 
do so. The fact, that one event is the antecedent of 
another, involves not the supposition of any essential power 



176 OF PRAYER. 

in the antecedent, but merely the supposition that God has 
placed it in that relation to something that is to follow. 

2. The bestowment of favors is one event. God has 
a right to ordain whatever antecedent to this event he 
cliooses. We are not competent to say, of any event, that 
it cannot be the antecedent to the bestowment of favors, 
any more than that rain cannot be the antecedent to the 
growth of vegetation. 

3. Since, then, any event whatever may be the ante- 
cedent to any other event whatever, we are, surely, not 
competent to say \\\dit prayer cannot he the antecedent to 
the bestowment of favors, any more than to say this gf 
any thing else.. It is, surely, to say the least of it, as good 
as any other antecedent, if God saw fit so to ordain. 

4. But, since God is a moral Governor, and must, there- 
fore, delight in and reward virtuous tempers, there is a 
manifest moral propriety in his making these tempers the 
antecedent to his bestowment of blessings. Nay, we can- 
not conceive how he would be a righteous moral Governor, 
unless he did do so. And, hence, we see, that the suppo- 
sition that God bestows blessings in answer to, prayer, 
which he would not bestow on any other condition, x6 not 
only not at variance with any of his natural attributes, but 
that it is ev^en demanded by his moral attributes. 

5. But, inasmuch as God has revealed to us the fact, 
that this is the condition on which he bestows the most 
valuable of his gifts, and as he has bound himself, by his 
promise, to reward abundantly all who call upon him, the 
utility of prayer, to creatures situated as we are, is as man- 
ifest as our necessities are urgent, both for time and for 
eternity. 

4. And, finally, there can be no clearer evidence of 
the goodness of God, than just such a constitution as this. 
God promises favors in answer to prayer ; but prayer, as 
we have seen,' is one of the most efficient means of pro- 
moting our moral perfection ; that is, our highest happi- 
ness ; that is to say, God promises us favors, on conditions, 
which, in themselves, involve the greatest blessings which 
we could possibly desire. Bishop Wilson beautifully 
remarks, " How good is God, who will not only give us 



OF PRAYER. 177 

what we pray for, but will reward us for going to him, and 
laying our wants before him !" 

That a man will, however, receive every thing he asks 
for, and just as he asks for it, is by no means asserted, in 
an unlimited sense ; but only that which he prays for, in a 
strict sense. Tnie prayer is the offering up of our desires, 
in entii'e subjection to the will of God ; that is, desiring 
that he will do what we ask, if He, in His infinite wisdom 
and goodness, sees that it will be best. Now, if we ask 
thus, our prayer will be granted, for thus He has promised 
to do for us. Hence, our prayers respecting temporal 
blessings, are answered only contingently ; that is, under 
this condition ; but our prayers respecting spiritual bless- 
ings, are answered absolutely; for God has positively 
promised to give His Holy Spirit to them that ask Him. 

If God have allowed us thus to hold the most intimate 
and unreserved communion with Him ; and if He have 
promised, on this condition, to support us by His power, 
to teach us by His wisdom, to purify us by His Spirit, and 
to work in us all those tempers which He sees will best pre- 
pare us for the highest state of future felicity, what can be 
more ennobling and more lovely than a prayerful life ? and 
what more ungrateful and sinful, than a life of thoughtless 
irreverence and impiety ? Is not the single fact, of living 
without habitual prayer, a conclusive evidence that we 
have not the love of God in us ; that we are living in habit- 
ual violation of every obligation that binds us to our Maker ; 
and that we are, therefore, under the solemn condemnation 
of His most holy law ? 



178 



CHAPTER FOURTH 

THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH. 

This is the second special means appointed by oui 
Creator, for the purpose of cuhivating in us suitable moral 
dispositions. We shall treat, first, of the original institu- 
tion of the Sabbath ; secondly, of the Mosaic Sabbath ; 
thirdly, of the Christian Sabbath. 

Although the Sabbath is a positive institution, and, 
therefore, the proof of its obligation is to be sought for 
entirely from revelation, yet there are indications, in the 
present constitution, that periods of rest are necessary, both 
for man and for beast. The recurrence of night, and the 
necessity of repose, show that the principle of rest 
enters into the present system, as much as that of labor. 
And; besides. It is found that animals which are allowed one 
day in seven for rest, hve longer, and enjoy better health, 
than those which are worked without Intermission. The 
same may, to a considerable degree, be said of man. The 
late Mr. Wllberforce attributed his length of hfe, and the 
superiority of health which he enjoyed over his political con- 
temporaries, mainly to his resolute and Invariable observ- 
ance of the Sabbath day ; a duty which, unfortunately, they 
too frequently neglected. 

I shall not go into the argument on this subject In detail, 
as the limits of the present work will not admit of it, but 
shall merely give what seem to me the results. To those 
who wish to examine the question of the obligation of the 
Sabbath at large, I would recommend the valuable treatise 
of Mr. J. J. Gumey, on the history, authority, and use of 
the Sabbath ; from which much of the present article Is 
merely an abridgment. 

I. Of the original institution of the Sabbath. 

First. The Divine authority for the institution of the Sab- 



THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH. 179 

bath, is found in Geiiesis u, 1 — 3. " Thus, the heavens 
and the earth were finished, and all the hosts of them ; and 
on the seventh day, God ended his work which He had 
made, and He rested on the seventh day fi'om all his works 
which He had made. And God blessed the seventh day, 
and sanctified it ; because that in it He had rested firom all 
his work which God had created and made." 
Now, concerning this passage, we remark, — 

1. It was given to our fii-st parents ; that is, to the whole 
human race. 

2. God blessed it ; that is, bestowed upon it a peculiar 
olessing, or made it a source of peculiar blessings to man. 
Such, surely, must be that day, which is given in order to 
cultivate in ourselves moral excellence, and prepare us for 
the happiness of heaven. He sanctified it ; that is, set it 
apart from a common to a sacred and religious use. 

3. The reason is a general one : God rested. This has 
no reference to anj peculiar people, but seems in the light 
of an example from God for all the human race. 

4. The nature of the ordinance is general. God sane 
tified it ; that is, the day. The act refers not to any par 
ticular people, but to the day itself. 

5. The object to be accomplished is general, and can 
apply to no one people more than to another. If it be 
rest, all men equally need it. If it be moral cultivation, 
surely no people has ever existed who did not require such 
a means to render them better. 

Secondly. There are indications that the hebdomadal 
division of time was observed by the patriarchs before the 
time of ]\Ioses, and that the Sabbath was regarded as the 
day for religious worship. 

1. Genesis iv, 3. " And in process of time, it came to 
pass that Cain brought of the fi'uit of the ground an offer- 
ing to the Lord." The words rendered "in process of 
time," literally signify " at the end of days ; " or, " at the 
cutting off of days ; " that is, as I think probable, at the 
close, as we should say, of a section of days ; a very nat- 
ural expression for the end of a week. If this be the 
meaning, it would seem to refer to the division of time just 



180 THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH. 

previously mentioned, and also to the use of this day foi 
religious worship. 

2. Noah seems to have observed the same hebdomadal 
division of time. The command to enter into the ark, was 
given seven days before the flood came. Genesis vii, 
4 — 10. So, he allowed seven days to elapse between the 
times of sending forth the dove. Genesis viii, 10 — 12. 
Now, I think that these intimations show that this division 
of time was observed according to the original command ; 
and we may well suppose that with it was connected the 
special time for religious worship. Thus, also, Joseph 
devoted seven days, or a whole week, to the mourning for 
his father. 

3. The next mention of the Sabbath, is shortly after the 
Israelites had left Egypt, and were fed with manna m the 
wilderness. Exodus xvi, 22 — 30. As the passage is of 
considerable length, I need not quote it. I would, how- 
ever, remark, — 

1. It occurs before the giving of the law ; and, therefore, 
the obligatoriness of the Sabbath is hereby acknowledged, 
iiTespective of the Mosaic law. 

2. When first alluded to, it is spoken of as a thing 
known. God, first, without referring to the Sabbath, 
informs Moses that on the sixth day, the Israelites should 
gather twice as much manna as on any other day. From 
this, it seems that the division of time by weeks was known ; 
and that it was taken for granted, that they would know 
the reason for the making of this distinction. In the whole 
of the narration, there is no precept given for the keeping 
of the day ; but they are reproved for not suitably keeping 
it, as though it were an institution with which they ought to 
have been familiar. 

Besides these, there are many indications in the earliest 
classics, that the Greeks and Romans observed the heb- 
domadal division of time ; and, also, that the seventh day 
was considered peculiarly sacred. This seems to have 
been the case in the time of Hesiod. The same is sup- 
posed to have been the fact in regard to the northern na- 
tions of Europe, from which wp are immediately descended. 



THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH. 181 

The inference which seems naturally to arise from these 
facts, is, that this institution was originally observed by the 
whole human race ; and that it was ti'ansmitted, with 
different degrees of care, by different nations, until the 
period of the commencement of our various historical 
records. 

From the above facts, I think we are warranted in the 
conclusion, that the seventh day, or perhaps, generally, the 
seventh part of time, was originally set apart for a religious 
purpose by our Creator, for the whole human race ; that it 
was so observed by the Hebrews, previously to the giving 
of the law ; and that, probably, the observance was, in the 
infancy of our race, universal. 

II. The Mosaic Sabbath. 

The precept for the observance of the Sabbath, at the 
giving of the law, is in these words: "Remember the 
Sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six days shalt thou labor, 
and do all thy work ; but the seventh is the Sabbath of the 
Lord thy God ; in it, thou shalt not do any work, thou, 
nor thy son, nor thy daughter, nor thy man-servant, nor 
thy maid-servant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is 
within thy gates ; for in six days the Lord made heaven 
and earth, the sea, and all that in them is, and rested the 
seventh day. Wherefore the Lord blessed the seventh 
day, and hallowed it." Exodus xx, 11. 

Now, concerning this precept, there are several things 
worthy of remark : 

1. It is found in the law of the ten commandments, yvhich 
is always refen-ed to in the Scriptures, as containing the 
sum of the moral precepts of God to man. Our Savior and 
the Apostles, who made the most decided distinction between 
moral and ceremonial observances, never allude to the law 
of the ten commandments in any other manner than as ot 
permanent and universal obligation. Now, I know of no 
reason which can be assigned, why this precept should be 
detached from all the rest, and considered as ceremonial, 
when the whole of these, taken together, are allowed, by 
universal consent, to have been quoted as moral precepts 
by Christ and his Apostles. Besides, our Savior expressly 
declares, that " the Sabbath ivas made for man," that is 
16 



182 THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH. 

for man in general, for the whole human race ; and conse- 
quently, that it is binding upon the whole race, that is, that 
It is a precept of universal obligation. 

2. The reasons given for observing it, are the same as 
those given at the time of its first institution. Inasmuch as 
these reasons are, in their nature, general, we should 
naturally conclude that the obligation which it imposes, is 
imiversal. 

3. This commandment is frequently referred to by the 
prophets, as one of high moral obligation ; the most solemn 
threatenings are uttered against those who profane it ; and 
the greatest rewards promised to those who keep it. See 
Isaiah Ivi, 2 — 6 ; Jeremiah xvii, 24, 25 ; Nehemiah xiii, 
15—21. 

4. In addition to rest from labor, the meeting together 
for worship, and the reading of the Scriptures, was made a 
part of the duty of the Sabbath day. Six days shall work 
be done ; but the seventh is the Sabbath of rest ; a holy 
convocation. Leviticus xxiii, 3. Thus, also, Moses, of 
old time, hath, in every city, them that preach him, being 
read in the synagogues every Sahhath day. Acts xv, 21. 

Besides this reenaction of the Sabbath day, in the Mosaic 
law, there were special additions made to its observance, 
which belong to the Jews alone, and which were a part of 
their civil or ceremonial law. With this view, other rea- 
sons were given for observing it, and other rites were added. 
Thus, for instance, — 

1. It was intended to distinguish them from the sur- 
rounding idolatrous nations. Exodus xxxi, 12 — 17. 

2. It was a memorial of their deliverance from Egypt. 
Deuteronomy v, 15. 

3. And, with these views, the principle of devoting the 
seventh part of time, was extended also to years ; every 
seventh year being a year of rest. 

4. The violation of the Sabbath was punished with deatn 
by the civil magistrate. 

Now, whatever is in its nature local, and designed for a 
particular purpose, ceases, whenever that purpose is accom- 
plished. Hence, these civil and ceremonial observances 
cease, with the termination of the Jewish polity ; while that 



THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH. 183 

wliich is moral and universal, that which "was made for 
man " and not specially for the Jews, remains as though 
the ceremonial observances had never existed. "I think 
that this view of the subject is also confirmed by the ex- 
ample and precept of Chi'ist, who gave directions concern- 
ing the manner in which the Sabbath was to be kept, and 
also was liimself accustomed to observe the day for tlie 
purposes of religious worship. " As his custom was, he 
went into the synagogue on the Sabbath day, and stood up 
to read.'' Luke iv, 16. See also Matthew xii, 2 — 13. 
When our Lord, also, in teaching the mode in which the 
Sabbath is to be kept, specifies what things it is lawful to 
do on the Sabbath day, he clearly proceeds upon the prin- 
ciple that it was lawful to do things on othei' days, which it 
would not be lawful to do on the Sabbath day, 

III. The Christian Sabbath. 

We shall consider here, 1st, The day on which the 
Christian Sabbath is to be kept ; 2d. The manner in 
which it is to be kept. 

First. The day on which the Christian Sabbath is to 
be kept. 

First. There are indications, from the facts which trans- 
oired on that day, that it was to be specially honored under 
the new dispensation. 

1. Our Savior arose on that day from the dead, having 
accomplished the work of man's redemption. 

2. On this day he appeared to his Apostles, a week from 
his resurrection, at which time he had his conversation with 
Thomas. 

3. On this day, also, occun*ed the feast of Pentecost, when 
the Spirit vv^as in so remarkable a manner poured oat, and 
wdien the new dispensation emphatically commenced. 

Second. That the primitive Christians, in the day^ of the 
Apostles, were accustomed to observe this day, as their day 
of weekly woi-ship, is evident fi-om several passages in the 
New Testament, and also lirom the earliest ecclesiastical 
records. 

1. That the early disciples, in all places, were accus- 
tomed to meet statedly, to worship and celebrate the 
Lord's Supper, is evident fi-om 1 Corinthians xi, 1, 14, 20^ 



184 THE OBSEBVAJSCE OF THE SABBATM 

23, 40. And that these meetings were on the first day ol 
the week, may be gathered from 1 Corinthians xvi, 1, 2. 

2. That these meetings were held on the first day of the 
week, is also further evident fi-om Acts xx, 6 — 1 1 ; where 
we are informed, that in Troas the Christians met on the 
first day of the week to break bread, (that is, to celebrate 
the Lord's Supper,) and to receive religious instruction. 
From these passages, we see that this custom had already 
become universal, not merely in the neighborhood of Jeru- 
salem, but throughout the regions in which the Christian 
religion was promulgated. 

3. Again, (^Revelations i, 10,) it is observed by John, 
" I was in the Spirit on the Lord^s dayJ^ From this re- 
mark, it is probable that John kept this day with peculiar 
solemnity. It is certain that the day had already obtained 
a particular name ; a name by which it has continued to be 
distinguished in every subsequent age. 

Besides these allusions to the day from the New Testa- 
ment, there are various facts, bearing upon the subject, from 
uninspired historians. 

1 . The early fathers frequently refer to this day, as the 
day set apart for religious worship ; and allude to the differ- 
ence between keeping this day, and keeping the seventh, 
or Jewish Sabbath, specially on the gi'ound of its being the 
day of our Savior's resurrection. 

2. Pliny, in his letter to Trajan, remarks that the 
Christians " were accustomed, on a stated day, to meet be- 
fore day-light, and to repeat among themselves a hymn to 
Christ, as to a God, and to bind themselves, by a sacred 
obligation, not to commit any wickedness, but, on the con- 
trary, to abstain from thefts, robberies and adulteries ; also, 
not to violate their promise, or deny a pledge ; after which, 
it was their custom to separate, and meet again at a pro- 
miscuous and harmless meal." It is needless here to remark 
the exact coincidence between this account from the pen oi 
a heathen magistrate, with the account given of the keeping 
of the day, in the passages where it is mentioned in the New 
Testament. 

3. That this stated day was the first day of the week, or 
the Lord's day, is evident from another testimony. So well 



THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH. 185 

known was the custom of the early Christians on this sub- 
ject, that the ordinary question, put by their persecutors to 
the Christian martyrs, was, " Hast thou kept the Lord's 
day ? " Dominicum servasti 1 To which the usual an 
swer was, " I am a Christian : I cannot omit it." Chris 
tianus sum : intermittere non possum. 

4 It is, however, manifest, that the Jews, who were 
strongly inclined to blend the rites of Moses with the Chris- 
tian religion, at first kept the seventh day ; or, what is very 
probable, at first kept both days. The Apostles declared 
that the disciples of Jesus were not under obligation to 
observe the seventh day. See Colossians ii, 16, 17. Now, 
as the observance of the Sabbath is a precept given to the 
whole human race ; as it is repeated, in the Mosaic law, as 
a moral precept ; as the authority of this precept is recog- 
nized both by the teaching and example of Christ and his 
Apostles ; as the Apostles teach that the keeping of the 
seventh day is not obligatory; and as they did keep the 
first day as a day of religious worship ; it seems reasonable 
to conclude that they intended to^ teach, that the first day 
was that which we are, as Christians, to observe. 

5. From these considerations, we feel warranted to con- 
clude that the first day of the week was actually kept by 
the inspired Apostles, as the Christian Sabbath. Their 
example is sufficient to teach us that the keeping of this 
day is acceptable to God ; and we are, on this gi'ound, at 
liberty to iceep it as the Sabbath. If, however, any other 
person be dissatisfied with these reasons, and feel under 
obligation to observe the seventh day, I see no precept in 
the word of God to forbid him. 

6. If, however, as seems to me to be the case, both days 
are allowable ; that is, if I have sufficient reason to believe 
that either is acceptable to God ; but if, by observing the 
first day, I can enjoy more perfect leisure, and sufi^er less 
interRiption, and thus better accomplish the object of the 
day; and if, besides, I have the example of inspired 
Apostles in favor of this observance ; I should decidedly 
prefer to observe the first day. Nay, I should consider the 
choice of that day as obligatoiy. For, if I am allowed to 
devote either day to the worship of God, it is surely obli^^a- 

- 16* 



186 THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH. 

toiy on me to worship God on that day on which I cai\ 
best accompHsh the very object for which the day was set 
apart. 

If it be asked, when this day is to begin, I answer, that 
T presume we are at Hberty to commence this day at the 
same time that we commence other days ; for the obvious 
reason, that thus we can generally enjoy the quiet of the 
Sabbath with less interruption. 

Secondly. Of the manner in which the Christian Sab- 
bath is to be observed. 

The design for which the Sabbath was instituted, I sup- 
pose to be, to set apart a portion of our time for the unin- 
terrupted worship of God, and the preparation of our souls 
for eternity ; and, also, to secure to man and beast one day 
in seven, as a season of rest from labor. 

Hence, the law of the Sabbath forbids, — 

1. All labor of body or mind, of which the immediate 
object is not the worship of God, or our own religious im- 
provement. The only exceptions to this rule, are works of 
necessity or of mercy. The necessity, however, must be 
one which is imposed by the providence of God, and not 
by our own will. Thus, a ship, when on a voyage, may 
sail on the Sabbath, as well as on any other day, without 
violating the rule. The rule, however, would be violated 
by commencing the voyage on the Sabbath, because here a 
choice of days is in the power of the master. 

2. The pursuit of pleasure, or of any animal, or merely 
mtellectual gratification. Hence, the indulgence of oui 
appetites in such manner as to prevent us from free and 
buoyant spiritual contemplation, riding or journeying foi 
amusement, the merely social pleasure of visiting, the 
leading of books designed for the gratification of the taste 
or of the imagination, are all, by the principles of the com- 
mand, forbidden. 

3. The labor of those committed to our charge. 

1. The labor of servants. Their souls are of as much 
value as our own, and they need the benefit of this law as 
much as ourselves. Besides, if this portion of their time 
be claimed by our Creator, we have no right to purchase it, 
nor have they a right to negotiate it away. Works of 



THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH. 187 

necessity must, of coui*se, be performed ; but these should 
be restricted within the hmits prescribed by a conscientious 
regard to the object and design of the day. 

2. Brutes are, by the fourth commandment, included in 
the law which ordains rest to all the animate creation. 
They need the repose which it grants, and they are en- 
titled to their portion of it. 

On the contrary, the law of the Sabbath enjoins the em," 
yloyment of the day in the more solemn and immediate 
duties of religion. 

1. Reading the Scriptures, religious meditation, prayer 
in private, and also the special instruction in religion of 
those committed to our charge. And, hence, it enjoins 
such domestic arrangements as are consistent with these 
duties. 

2. Social worship. Under the Mosaic and Christian 
dispensation, this was an important part of the duties of the 
day. As the setting apart of a particular day to be univer- 
sally observed, involves the idea of social as well as per- 
sonal religion, one of the most obvious duties which it 
imposes, is that of social worship ; that is, of meeting to- 
gether in societies, to return thanks for our social mercies, 
to implore the pardon of God for our social sins, and 
beseech His favor for those blessings which we need as 
societies, no less than as individuals. 

The importance of the religious observance of the Sab- 
bath, is seldom sufficiently estimated. Every attentive 
observer has remarked, that the violation of this command, 
by the young, is one of the most decided marks of incipient 
moral degeneracy. Religious restraint is fast losing its 
hold upon that young man, who, having been educated in 
the fear of God, begins to spend the Sabbath in idleness, 
or in amusement. And so, also, of communities. The 
desecration of the Sabbath is one of those evident indica- 
tions of that criminal recklessness, that insane love of 
pleasure, and that subjection to the government of appetite 
and passion, which forebodes, that the " beginning of the 
end " of social happiness, and of true national prospenty, 
has arrived. 

Hence, we see how imperative is the duty of parents. 



188 THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH. 

and of legislators, on this subject. The head of every 
family is obliged, by the command of God, not only to 
honor this day himself, but to use all the means in his 
power to secure the observance of it, by all those committed 
to his charge. He is, thus, promoting not only his own, 
but also his children's happiness; for nothing is a more 
sure antagonist force to all the allurements of vice, as 
nothing tends more strongly to fix in the minds of the 
young a conviction of the existence and attributes of God, 
than the solemn keeping of this day. And, hence, also, 
legislators are false to their trust, who, either by the enact- 
ment of laws, or by their example, diminish, in the least 
degree, in the minds of a people, the reverence due to that 
day which God has set apart for Himself. 

The only question which remains, is the following : 
Is it the duty of the civil magistrate to enforce the ob- 
servance of the Sabbath? 

We are inclined to think not, and for the following 
reasons : 

1. The duty arises solely from our relations to God, and 
not fi:om our relations to man. Now, our duties to God 
are never to be placed within the control of human legis- 
lation. 

2. If the civil magistrate has a right to take cognizance 
of this duty to God, he has a right to take cognizance of 
every other. And, if he have a right to take cognizance 
of the duty, he has a right to prescribe in what manner it 
shall be discharged ; or, if he see fit, to forbid the observ- 
ance of it altogether. The concession of this right would, 
therefore, lead to direct interference with liberty of con- 
science. 

3 The keeping of the Sabbath is a moral duty. Hence, 
if it be acceptably observed, it must be a voluntary service. 
But the civil magistrate can never do any thing more than 
produce obedience to the external precept ; which, in the 
sight of God, would not be the keeping of the Sabbath at 
all. Hence, to allow the civil magistrate to enforce the 
obseiTance of the Sabbath, would be to surrender to him 
the control over the conscience, without attainmg even the 
object for which the sun-ender was made. 



THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH. 189 

4. It is, however, the duty of the civil magistrate, to 
protect every individual in the undisturbed right of wor- 
shipping God as he pleases. This protection, every in- 
dividual has a right to claim, and society is under obligation 
to extend it. And, also, as this is a leisure day, and is 
liable to various abuses, the magistrate has a right to pre- 
vent any modes of gratification which would tend to disturb 
the peace of society. This nght is acknowledged in reg- 
ulations respecting other days of leisure or rejoicing ; and 
there can be no reason why it should not be exercised m 
respect to the Sabbath. 

5. And, lastly, the law of the Sabbath applies equally 
to societies, and to individuals. An individual is forbidden 
to labor on the Sabbath, or to employ another person to 
labor for him. The mle is the same, when applied to any 
number of individuals ; that is, to a society. Hence, a 
society has no right to employ persons to labor for them. 
The contract is a violation of the Sabbatical law. It is on 
this ground that I consider the canying of the mail on this 
day a social violation of the Christian Sabbath. 



/ 



190 



PART II 



DUTIES TO MAN. RECIPROCITY AND BENEVO- 
LENCE. 

DIVISION I. 

THE DUTY OF RECIPROCITY.— GENERAL PRINCIPLE ILLUSTRATED, 
AND THE DUTIES OF RECIPROCITY CLASSIFIED. 

It has been already observed, that our duties, to both 
God and man, are all enforced by the obligation of love to 
God. By this we mean, that, in consequence of our moral 
constitution, we are under obligation to love our fellow-men, 
because they are our fellow-men ; and we are also under 
obligation to love them, because we have been conulaanded 
to love them by our Father who is in heaven. The nature 
of this obligation may be illustrated by a familiar example. 
Ever}'- child in a family is under obligation to love its 
parent. And every child is bound to love its brother, both 
because he is its brother, and, also, because this love is a 
duty enforced by the relation in ivhich they both stand to 
their common parent. 

The relation in which men stand to each other, is essen- 
tially the relation of equality ; not equality of condition^ 
but equality of right. 

Every human being is a distinct and separately account- 
able individual. To each one, God has given just such 
means of happiness, and placed him under just such cir- 
cumstances for improving those means of happiness, as it 
has pleased him. To one he has given wealth ; to another, 
intellect ; to anodier, physical strength ; to another, health ; 
and to all in different degrees. In all these respects, the . 



THE DUTY OF RECIPROCITY. 191 

human race presents a scene of the greatest possible diver- 
sity. So far as natural advantages are concerned, we can 
scarcel}^ find two individuals, who are not created under 
circumstances widely dissimilar. 

But, viewed in another nght, all men are placed under 
circumstances of perfect equality. Each separate indi- 
vidual is created with precisely the same right to use the 
advantages with which God has endowed him, as every 
other individual. This proposition seems to me in its 
nature so self-evident, as almost to preclude the possibility 
of argument. The only reason that I can conceive, on 
which any one could found a plea for inequality of right, 
must be inequality of condition. But this can manifestly 
create no diversity of right. I may have been endowed 
with better eye-sight than my neighbor ; but this evidently 
gives me no right to put out his eyes, or to interfere with 
his right to derive from them whatever of happiness the 
Creator has placed within his power. I may have greater 
muscular strength than my neighbor ; but this gives me no 
right to break his arms, or to diminish, in any manner, his 
ability to use them for the production of his own happiness. 
Besides, this supposition involves direct and manifest con- 
tradiction. For the principle asserted is, that superiorit}^ 
of condition confers superiority of right. But if this be 
tiiie, then eveiy kind of superiority of condition must confer 
correspondent superiority of right. Superiority in muscular 
strength must confer it, as much as superiority of intellect, 
or of wealth ; and must confer it in the ratio of that supe- 
riority. In that case, if A, on the ground of intellectual 
superiority, have a right to improve his own means of 
happiness, by diminishing those which the Creator has 
given to B, B would have the same rignt over A, on the 
ground of superiority of muscular strength ; while C would 
have a correspondent right over them both, on the ground 
of superiority of wealth ; and so on indefinitely ; and these 
rights would change every day, according to the relative 
situation of the respective parties. That is to say, as right 
is, in its nature, exclusive, all the men in the universe have 
an exclusive right to the same thing ; while the right of 
every one absolutely annihilates that of every other. 



19^ THE DUTY OF RECiPROCITY. 

What is the meaning of such an assertion, 1 leave it Ibi 
others to determine. 

But let us look at man in another point of light. 

1. We find all men possessed of the same appetites and 
passions, that is, of the same desire for external objects, 
and the same capacity for receiving happiness fi:om the grat- 
ification of these desires. We do not say that all men 
possess them all in an equal degree ; but only that all men 
actually possess them all, and that their happiness depends 
upon the gratification of them. 

2. These appetites and passions are created, so far as 
they themselves are exclusively concerned, without limit. 
Gratification generally renders them both more intense and 
more numerous. Such is the case with the love of wealth, 
the love of power, the love of sensual pleasure, or with 
any of the others. 

3. These desires may he gi-atified in such a manner, as 
710^ to interfere with the right which every other man has 
over his own means of happiness. Thus, I may gratify 
my love of wealth, by industry and frugality, while I con- 
duct myself towards every other man with entire honesty. 
I may gratify my love of science, without diminishing, in 
any respect, the means of knowledge possessed by another. 
And, on the other hand, I am created with \he physical power 
to gratify my desires, in such a manner as to interfere with 
the right which another has over the means of happiness 
which God has given him. Thus, I have a physical power 
to gi'atify my love of property, by stealing the property of 
another, as well as to gi'atify it by earning property for 
myself. I have, by the gift of speech, the physical power 
to ruin the reputation of another, for the sake of gratifying 
my own love of approbation. I have the physical power 
to murder a man, for the sake of using his body to gratify 
my love of anatomical knowledge. And so of a thousand 
cases. 

4. And, hence, we see that the relation in which human 
beings stand to each other, is the following : Every indi- 
vidual is created with a desire to use the means of happi- 
ness which God has given him, in such a maimer as he 
thinks will best promote that happiness ; and of this manner 



THE DUTY OF RECIPROCITY. 193 

he is the sole judge. Eveiy indiv^idual is endow sd with 
the same desires, which lie may gratify in such a manner 
as will 710^ interfere with his neighbor's means of happiness ; 
but each individual has, also, \he physical power of so grat- 
ifying his desires, as will interfere with the means of happi- 
ness which God has granted to his neighbor. 

5. From this relation, it is manifest that every man is 
under obligation to pursue his own happiness, in such man- 
ner only as will leave his neighbor in the undisturbed exer- 
cise of that common right which the Creator has equally 
conferred upon both, that is, to restrain his physical power 
of gratifying his desires within such limits that he shall in- 
terfere with the rights of no other being ; because in no 
other manner can the evident design of the Creator, the 
common happiness of all, be promoted. 

That this is the law of our being, may be shown from 
several considerations : 

1. By violating it, the happiness of the aggressor is not 
uicreased, while that of the sufferer is diminished ; while, by 
obeying it, the greatest amount of happiness of which our 
condition is susceptible, is secured ; because, by obeying it, 
every one derives the greatest possible advantage from the 
gi^ts bestowed upon him by the Creator. 

2. Suppose any other mle of obligation ; that is, that a 
man is not under obligation to observe, with this exactitude, 
the rights of his neighbor. Where shall the limit be fixed ? 
If violation be allowed in a small degree, why not m a great 
degree ? and if he may interfere with one right, why not 
with all ? And, as all men come under the same law, this 
principle would lead to the same absurdity as that of which 
we have before spoken ; that is, it would abolish the very 
idea of right ; and, as every one has an equal liberty of vio- 
lation, would surrender the whole race to the dominion of 
unrestrained desire. 

3. If it be said that one class of men is not under the ob- 
ligation to observe this mle in its conduct towards another 
class of men, then it will be necessary to show that the 
second class are not men, that is, human beings ; for these 
principles apply to men, as men ; and the simple fact, that 
a being is a man, places him within the reach of these oblj- 

17 



1^ THE DUTY OF RECIPROCITY. 

gallons, and of their protection. Nay, more, suppose the 
inferior class of beings were not truly men; if they were in- 
teUigent moral agents, I suppose that we should be undei 
the same obligation to conduct ourselves towards them upon 
the principle of reciprocity. I see no reason why an angel 
would have a right, by virtue of his superior nature, to 
interfere with the means of happiness which God has con- 
ferred upon man. By parity of reasoning, therefore, supe- 
riority of rank would give to man no such power over an 
inferior species of moral and intelligent beings. 

And, lastly, if it be true that the Creator has given to 
every separate individual, control over those means of hap- 
piness which He has bestowed upon him, then the simple 
question is. Which is of the highest authority, this grant of 
the Creator, or the desires and passions of the creature ? for 
these are really the notions which are brought into collision. 
That is to say, ought the grant of God, and the will of 
God, to limit my desires ; or ought my desires to vitiate the 
grant, and set at defiance the will of God ? On this ques- 
tion, a moral and intelligent creature can entertain but one 
opinion. 

Secondly. Let us examine the teaching of the Holy 
Scriptures on this subject. 

The precept in the Bible is in these words : " Thou shalt 
love thy neighbor as thyself." 

Two questions are here to be considered. First, To whom 
does this command apply ; or, in other words, Who is my 
neighbor ? and, secondly, What is implied in the precept ? 

1. The first of these questions is answered by our Savioi 
himself, in the parable of the good Samaritan. Luke x, 
25 — 37. He there teaches us, that we are to consider as 
our neighbor, not our kinsman, or our fellow-citizen, or those 
to whom we are bound by the reception of previous kind- 
ness, but the stranger, the alien, the hereditary national 
enemy ; that is, man, as man ; any human being to whom 
we may in any manner do good. Every man is our neigh- 
bor, and, therefore, we are under obligation to love every 
man as ourselves. 

2. What is the import of the command to love such a one 
as ourselves ? 



THE DUTY OF RECIPROCITY. 195 

The very lowest meaning that we can assign to this 
precept, is as follows. • I have already stated that God has 
bestowed upon every man such means of happiness, as, in 
his own sovereign pleasure, he saw fit ; and that he has 
given to every man an equal right to use those means of 
happiness as each one su})poses will best promote his own 
well-being. Besides this, every one has an instinctive 
desire thus to use them. He cannot be happy unless this 
desire be gratified, and he is painfully conscious of injury, if 
this right be interfered with. In this manner, he loves 
himself. Now, in the same manner he is commanded to 
love his neighbor. That is, he is, by this precept, obliged 
to have the same desire that his neighbor should enjoy, 
unmolested, the control over whatever God has bestowed 
upon him, as he has to enjoy, unmolested, the same control 
himself; and to feel the same consciousness of injury when 
another man's rights are invaded, as when his own rights 
are invaded. With these sentiments, he would be just as 
unwilling to violate the rights of another, as he would be to 
suffer a violation of liis own. That this view of the sub- 
ject exhausts the command, we by no means assert ; but 
we think it evident that the language is capable of a no less 
comprehensive meaning. 

The same precept is expressed in other places, under 
another form of language : " All things whatsoever ye 
would that men should do unto you, do ye even so unto 
them ; for this is the law and the prophets." Matthew 
vii, 12. 

The words here, as in the former case, are used to de- 
note a principle of universal obligation : ^^All things what 
soever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even 
30 unto them." 

The precept itself teaches us to estimate the rights of 
others by the consciousness of individual right in our own 
bosoms. Would we wish to know how delicate a regand 
we are bound to entertain towards the control which God 
has given to others over the means of happiness which He 
has granted to them, let us decide the question by asking 
how tender and delicate is the regard which we would wish 



196 THE DUTY OF RECIPROCITY. 

them to entertain towards us under similar circumstances. 
The decision of the one question, will always be the decis- 
ion of the other. And this precept goes a step farther. 
It renders it obligatory on every man to commence such a 
course of conduct, irrespectively of whatever may be the 
conduct of others to himself. It forbids us to demand 
more than the law of reciprocity allows ; it commands us 
always to render it; and, still more, if we complain to 
another of his violation of the law, it renders it imperative 
on us, while we urge upon him a change of conduct, to 
commence by setting him the example. And it really, if 
carried out to the utmost, would preclude our claim upon 
him, until we had ourselves first manifested towards him 
the very disposition which we demand towards ourselves. 
The moral beauty of this precept will be at once seen by 
any one who will take the trouble, honestly, to generalize 
it. He will immediately perceive that it would always 
avert injury at the very outset; and, by rendering both 
parties more virtuous, would tend directly to banish injury, 
and violence, and wrong, from the earth. 

Thirdly, This law of universal reciprocity applies with 
the same force to communities as to individuals. 

Communities are composed of individuals, and can have, 
in respect to each other, no other rights than those of the 
individuals who constitute them. If it be wrong for one man 
to injure another man, it must be equally wrong for two 
men to injure two other men ; and so of any other number. 
And, moreover, the grant of the Creator is in both cases 
under the same circumstances. God has bestowed upon 
nations physical and intellectual advantages, in every pos 
sible degree of diversity. But He has gianted to them all 
an equal right to use those advantages in such manner as 
each one may suppose will best conduce to the promotion 
of his own happiness. 

Hence it will follow, — 

1. That the precept applies as universally to nations as 
to individuals. Whenever societies of men treat with each 
other; whether powerflil with weak, or polite with rude, 
civilized with savage, or intelligent with ignorant ; whc'ihci 



THE DUTf OF RECIPROCITY. 197 

friends with friends, or enemies with enemies ; all are bound, 
by the law of reciprocity, to love each other as themselves, 
and to do unto others, in all things^ whatsoever they would 
desire othei*s to do unto them. 

2. And hence, also, the precept itself is as obligatory 
upon nations as upon individuals. Every nation is bound 
to exhibit as sensitive a regard for the preservation inviolate 
of the rights of another nation, as it exhibits for the preser- 
vation inviolate of its own rights. And still more, every 
nation is under the same obligation as every individual, to 
measure the respect and moderation which it displays to 
others, by the respect and moderation which it demands foi 
itself; and is also, if it complain of violation of right, to set 
the first example of entire and perfect reciprocity and 
fidelity. Were this course pursued by individuals and 
nations, the causes of collision would manifestly cease, and 
the appeal to arms would soon be remembered only as one 
of the strange infatuations of by-gone, barbarous and bl<^od 
thirsty ages. Chicanery, and intrigue, and overreaching, 
are as wicked and as disgraceful in the intercourse of 
nations and societies, as in that of individuals ; and the tool 
of a nation or of a party, is as truly contemptible as the 
tool of an individual. The only distinction which I per- 
ceive, is, that, in the one case, the instrument of dishonesty 
is ashamed of his act, and dare not wear the badge of his 
infamy ; while, in the other case, even the ambiguous 
virtue of shame has been lost, and the man gJ-jnes in the 
brand which marks him for a villain. 



17 



198 THE DUTY OF RECIPROCITY 



CLASSIFICATION OF THE DUTIES ARISING FROM THE LAW OF 
RECIPROCITY. 

The duties of reciprocity may bo divided into three 
classes : 

Class 1. Duties to men, as men. 

Class 2. Duties arising from the constitu tiotj of 

THE sexes. 

Class 3. Duties arising from the constitution of 

CIVIL SOCIETY. 

Class 1. Duties to men, as men. 
This includes Justice and Veracity. 

I. Justice, as it regards, 1. Liberty. 

2. Property. 

3. Character. 

4. Reputation. 

II. Veracity. 1. Of the past and present. 

2. Of the future. 
Class 2. Duties arising from the constitution of 

THE SEXES. 

Including, 1. General duty of chastity. 

2. The law of marriage. 

3. The duties and rights of parents. 

4. The duties and rights of children. 

Class 3. Duties arising from the constitution of 
civil society. 

1. The nature of civil society. 

2. The mode in which the authority of civil society is 
maintained. 

3. Of forms of government. 

4. Duties of magistrates. 

5. Duties of citizens. 



199 



CLASS FIRST. 

JUSTICE AND VERACITY. 
JUSTICE. 

Justice, when used in a judicial sense, signifies that tem- 
per of mind which disposes a man to administer rewards and 
punishments according to the character and actions of the 
object. 

It is also used to designate the act by which this admin^ 
istration is effected. Thus, we speak of a judge, who 
administers justice. 

In the present case, however, it is used in a more ex- 
tensive signification. It is here intended to designate that 
temper of mind which disposes us to leave eveiy other 
being in the unmolested enjoyment of those means of 
happiness bestowed upon him by his Creator. It is, also, 
frequently used for the exhibition of this conduct in out- 
ward act. Thus, when a man manifests a proper respect 
for the rights of others, we say, he acts justly ; when he, 
in any manner, violates these rights, we say, he acts un- 
justly. 

The most important means of happiness which God has 
placed in the power of the individual, are, fii-st, his own 
PERSON ; second, property ; tnird, character ; fourth^ 

REPUTATION. 



200 



CHAPTER FIRST. 

PERSONAL LIBERTY. 
SECTION I. 

OP THE NATURE OF PERSONAL LIBERTY. 

Every human being is, by his constitution, a separate, 
and distinct, and complete system, adapted to all the pur- 
poses of self-government, and responsible, separately, to 
God, for the manner in which his powers are employed. 
Thus, every individual possesses a body, by which he is 
connected with the physical universe, and by which that 
universe is modified for the supply of his wants ; an under- 
standing, by which truth is discovered, and by which means 
are adapted to their appropriate ends ; passions and de- 
sires, by which he is excited to action, and in the gratifica- 
tion of which his happiness consists ; conscience, to point 
out the limit within which these desires may be rightfully 
gratified ; and a will, which determines him to action. The 
possession of these is necessary to a human nature, and it 
also renders every being so constituted, a distinct and inde- 
pendent individual. He may need society, but every one 
needs it equally with every other one ; and, hence, all enter 
into it upon terms of strict and evident reciprocity. If the 
individual use these powers according to the laws imposed 
by his Creator, his Creator holds him guiltless. If he use 
them in such manner as not to interfere with the use of the 
same powers which God has bestowed upon his neighbor, 
he is, as it respects his neighbor, whether that neighbor be 
an individual or the community, to be held guiltless. So 
long as he uses them within this limit, he has a right, so far 
as his fellow-men are concerned, to use them, in the most 
unlimited sense, suo arbitrio, at his own discretion. His 



NATURE OF PERSONAL LIBERTY. 201 

will is his sufficient and ultimate reason. He need assign 
no other reason for his conduct, than his own free choice 
Within this limit, he is '^till responsible to God ; Dut, within 
this limit, he is not responsible to man, nor is man respon- 
sihle for him, 

1 . Thus, a man has an entire right to use his own body 
as he will, provided he do not so use it as to interfere with 
the rights of his neighbor. He may go where he will, 
and stay where he please ; he may work, or be idle ; he 
may pursue one occupation, or another, or no occupation at 
all ; and it is the concern of no one else, if he leave in- 
violate the rights of every one else ; that is, if he leave 
every one else in the undisturbed enjoyment of those means 
of happiness bestowed upon him by the Creator. 

It seems almost trifling to argue a point, which is, in its 
nature, so evident upon inspection. If, however, any ad- 
ditional proof be required, the following considerations will 
readily suggest themselves. It is asserted that every indi- 
vidual has an equal and ultimate right with every other 
individual, to the use of his body, his mind, and all the 
other means of happiness with which God has endowed 
him. But suppose it otherwise. Suppose that one in- 
dividual has a right to the body, or mind, or means of 
happiness, of another. That is, suppose that A has a 
right to use the body of B according to his, that is, A's, will. 
Now, if this be true, it is tnie universally ; hence, A has 
the control over the body of B, and B has control over the 
body of C, C of that of D, &c., and Z again over the 
body of A ; that is, every separate will has the right of con- 
trol over some other body or intellect besides its own, and 
has no right of control over its own body or intellect. 
Whether such is the constitution of human nature, or, if 
It be not, whether it would be an improvement upon the 
present constitution, may be easily decided. 

And, if it be said, that, to control one man's body by 
another man's will is impossible, for that every man acts as 
he will, since he cannot do any thing unless he ivill do it, 
it may be answered, that the term wiU is used here m a 
different sense fi*om that intended in the preceding para- 
graph. Every one must see, that a man, who, out of the 



5J02 NATURE OF PERSONAL LIBERTY. 

various ways of employing his body, set before him by his 
Creator, chooses that which he prefers, is in a very differ- 
ent condition from him who is debarred from all choice, 
excepting that he may do what his fellow-man appoints, 
or else must suffer what his fellow-man chooses to hiflict. 
Now, the true condition of a human being is that in which 
his will is influenced by no other circumstances than those 
which arise from the constitution under which his Creator 
has placed him. And he who for his own pleasure places 
his fellow-man under any other conditions of existence, is 
guilty of the most odious tyranny, and seems to me to 
arrogate to himself the authority of the Most High God. 

But it may be said that, in this case, the individual may 
become chargeable to the community. To this I answer, 
not unless the community assume the charge. If every 
man be left to himself, but is obliged to respect the rights of 
others ; if he do not labor, a remedy is provided in the laws 
of the system, — he will very soon starve ; and, if he prefer 
starvation to labor, he has no one to blame but himself. While 
the law of reciprocity frees him from the control of society, 
it discharges society from any responsibility for the result of 
his actions upon himself. I know that society undertakes 
to support the indigent and helpless, and to relieve men in 
extreme necessity. This, however, is a conventional ar- 
rangement, into which men, who choose, have a right to 
enter ; and, having entered into it, they are bound by- its 
provisions. If they become responsible for the support of 
the individual's hfe, they have a right over his power of 
labor to an extent sufficient to cover that responsibility. 
And he who has become a member of such a society, has 
surrendered voluntarily his control over his body, to this 
amount. But as he has done it voluntarily, such a con- 
vention proceeds upon the concession, that the original 
right vests in the individual. 

2. The same remarks apply to the use of the intellect. 

If the preceding observations are just, it will follow, that 
every man, within the limit before suggested, has a right to 
use his intellect as he will. He may investigate whatever 
subjects he will, and in what manner soever he will, and 
may come to such conclusions as his investigations may 



NATURE OF PERSONAL LIBERTY. 203 

teach, and may publish those conclusions to those who are 
willing to hear them, provided he interfere with the happi- 
ness of no other human being. The denial of this right, 
would lead to the same absurdities as in the former case. 

If it be said that the individual may, by so doing, in- 
volve himself in error, and thus diminish his own happi- 
ness, the answer is at hand, namely, for this the constitution 
of things provides its appropriate and adequate punishment. 
He who imbibes error, suffers, in his own person, the con- 
sequences of error, which are misfortune and loss of 
respect. And, besides, as, for his happiness, society is not 
in this case responsible : there can be no reason, derived 
from the consideration of his happiness, why society should in- 
terfere with the free use of this instrument of happiness, which 
tlie Creator has intrusted solely to the individual himself. 

But, it may be asked, has not society a right to oblige 
men to acquire a certain amount of intellectual cultivation ? 
I answer, men have a right to form a society upon -such 
conditions as they please ; and, of course, so to form it, 
that it shall be necessary, in order to enjoy its privileges, 
for the individual to possess a certain amount of knowledge. 
Having formed such a society, every one is bound by its 
provisions, so long as he remains a member of it ; and the 
enforcing of its provisions upon the individual, is no more 
than oblisinff him to do what he, for a sufficient considera- 
tion, voluntarily contracted to do. And society may right- 
fully enforce this provision in either of two ways : it may 
either withhold from every man who neglects to acquire 
this knowledge, the benefits of citizenship ; or else it may 
grant these benefits to every one, and oblige every one to 
possess the assigned amount of knowledge. In this case, 
there is no violation of reciprocity ; for the same require- 
ments are made of all, and every one receives his full 
equivalent, in the results of the same law upon others. 
More than this, the indi\idual could not justly require. He 
could not justly demand to be admitted to rights which 
presuppose certain intellectual attainments, and which can 
only be, with safety to others, enjoyed by those who have 
made these attainments, unless he be willing to conform to 
the condition necessary to that enjoyment. 



'204 NATURE OF PERSONAL LIBERTY. 

3. I have thus far considered man only in his relations to 
the present life. So far as I have gone, I have endeavored 
to show that, provided the individual interfere not with the 
rights of others, he has a right to use his own body and 
mind as he thinks will best promote his own happiness ; 
that is, as he will. But, if he have this right, within these 
limits, to pursue his present happiness, how much more 
incontrovertible must be his right to use his body and mind 
in such manner, as he supposes will best promote his 
eternal happiness ! And, besides, if, for the sake of his 
own happiness, he have a right to the unmolested enjoy- 
ment of whatever God has given him, how much more is 
he entitled to the same unmolested enjoyment, for the sake 
of obeying God, and fulfilling the highest obligation of 
which he is susceptible ! 

We say, then, that every man, provided he does not in- 
terfere with the rights of his neighbor, has a right, so far as 
his neighbor is concerned, to worship God, or not to wor 
ship him ; and to worship him in any manner that he will , 
and that, for the abuse of this liberty, he is accountable 
only to God. 

If it be said, that, by so doing, a man may ruin his own 
soul, the answer is obvious; for this ruin, the individual 
himself, and not society, is responsible. And, moreover, 
as religion consists in the temper of heart, which force can- 
not affect, — and not in external observance, which is all 
that force can affect, — no application of force can change 
our relations to God, or prevent the ruin in question. AD 
application of force must then be gratuitous mischief. 

To sum up what has been said, — all men are created 
with an equal right to employ their faculties, of body or 
of mind, in such manner as will promote their own hap- 
piness, either here or hereafter ; or, which is the same thing, 
every man has a right to use his own powers, of body or of 
mind, in such manner as he will ; provided he do not use 
them in such manner as to interfere with the rights of his 
neighbor. 

The exceptions to this law are easily defined. 

I . The first exception is in the case of infancy. 

By the law of nature, a parent is under obligation to 



NATURE OF PERSONAL LIBERTY. 205 

support his child, and is responsible for his actions. He 
has, therefore, a right to control the actions of the child, so 
long as this responsibility exists. He is under obligation to 
render that child a suitable member of the community ; and 
this obligation he could not discharge, unless the physical 
and intellectual liberty of the child were placed within his 
power. 

2. As the parent has supported the child during infancy, 
he has, p:-obably, by the law of nature, a right to his ser- 
vices dunng youth, or for so long a period as may be 
sufficient to insure an adequate remuneration. When, 
however, this remuneration is received, the right of the 
parent over the child ceases for ever. 

3. This right he may, if he see fit, transfer to another, as 
in the case of apprenticeship. But he can transfer the right 
for no longer time than he holds it. He can, therefore, 
negotiate it away for no period beyond that of the child's 
minority. 

4. A man may transfer his right over his own labor for 
a limited time, and for a satisfactory equivalent. But this 
transfer proceeds upon the principle that the original right 
vests in himself, and it is, therefore, no violation of that right. 
He has, however, no right to transfer the services of any 
other person except his child ; nor of his child, except 
under the limitations above specified. 

In strict accordance with these remarks, is the memorable 
sentence in the commencement of the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence, " We hold these truths to be self-evident : that 
all men are created equal ; that they are endowed by their 
Creator with certain inalienable rights ; that among these 
are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." That the 
equality here spoken of is not of the means of happiness, but 
in the right to use them as we will, is too evident to need 
illustration. 



18 



206 MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL. 

SECTION II. 

MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED. 

Personal liberty may be violated in two ways : 1. By the 
individual ; 2. By society. 

Part First. Of the violation of personal liberty by the 
INDIVIDUAL . The most common violation of personal liberty, 
under this head, is that which exists in the case of Domes- 
tic Slavery. 

Domestic slavery proceeds upon the principle that the 
master has a right to control the actions, physical and in- 
tellectual, of the slave, for his own, that is, the master's, 
individual benefit ; and, of course, that the happiness of the 
master, when it comes in competition with the happiness 
of the slave, extinguishes in the latter the right to pursue it. 
It supposes, at best, that the relation between master and 
slave, is not that which exists between man and man, but 
is a modification, at least, of that which exists between 
man and the brutes. 

Now, this manifestly supposes that the two classes of 
beings are created with dissimilar rights : that the master 
possesses rights which have never been conceded by the 
slave ; and that the slave has no rights at all over the means 
of happiness which God has given him, whenever these 
means of happiness can be rendered available to the service 
of the master. It supposes that the Creator intended one 
human being to govern the physical, intellectual and moral 
actions of as many other human beings as by purchase he 
can bring within his physical power ; and that one human 
being may thus acquire a right to sacrifice the happiness of 
any number of other human beings, for the purpose of pro- 
moting his own. 

Slavery thus violates the personal Hberty of man as a 
physical, intellectual, and moral being. 

1. It purports to give to the master a right to control the 
physical labor of the slave, not for the sake of the happiness 
of the slave, nor upon terms mutually satisfactoiy to the 



LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED. 207 

parties, but for the sake of the happiness of the master. 
It subjects the amount of labor, and the kind of labor, and 
the remuneration for labor, entirely to the will of the one 
party, to the entire exclusion of the will of the other party. 

2. But if this right in the master over the slave be con- 
ceded, there are of coui-se conceded with it all other rights 
necessary to insure its possession. Hence, inasmuch as the 
slave can be held in this condition only while he remains in 
a state of comparative mental imbecility, it supposes the 
master to have the right to control his intellectual develop- 
ment, just as far as may be necessary to secure entire sub- 
jection. Thus, it supposes the slave to have no right to 
use his intellect for the production of his own happiness ; 
but, only to use it in such manner as may be consistent 
with his master's profit. 

3. And, moreover, inasmuch as the acquisition of the 
knowledge of his duty to God could not be freely made 
without the acquisition of other knowledge, which might, 
if universally diffiised, endanger the control of the master, 
slaver}^ supposes the master to have the right to determine 
how much knowledge of his duty a slave shall obtain, 
the manner in which he shall obtain it, and the manner in 
which he shall discharge that duty after he shall have 
obtained a knowledge of it. It thus subjects the duty of 
man to God, entirely to the will of man ; and this for the 
sake of pecuniary profit. It renders the eternal happiness 
of the one party subservient to the temporal happiness of 
the other. And this principle is commonly recognized by 
the laws of all slave-holding countries. 

If argument were necessary to show that such a system 
as this must be at variance with the ordinance of God, it 
might be easily drawn from the effects which it produces 
both upon morals and upon national wealth, 

1. Its effects must be disastrous upon the morals of both 
parties. By presenting objects on whom passion may be 
satiated without resistance and without redress, it tends to 
cultivate in the master, pride, anger, cruelty, selfishness and 
licentiousness. ,By accustoming the slave to subject his 
moral principles to the will of another, it tends to abolish in 
him all moral distinctions ; and thus fosters in him lying, 



208 MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL 

deceit, hypocrisy, dishonesty, and a willingness to yield 
himself up to minister to the appetites of his master. That 
in all slave-holding countries there are exceptions to this 
remark, and that there are principles in human nature 
which, in many-cases, limit the effects of these tendencies, 
may be gladly admitted. Yet, that such is the tendency 
of slavery, as slavery, we think no reflecting person can 
for a moment hesitate to allow. 

2. The effects of slavery on national wealth, may be 
easily seen from the following considerations : 

1. Instead of imposing upon all the necessity of labor, 
it restricts the number of laborers, that is, of producers, 
within the smallest possible limit, by rendering labor dis- 
graceful. 

2. It takes from the laborers the natural stimulus to 
labor, namely, the desire in the individual of improving 
his condition ; and substitutes, in the place of it, that 
motive which is the least operative and the least constant, 
namely, the fear of punishment without the consciousness 
of moral delinquency. 

3. It removes, as far as possible, from both parties, the 
disposition and the motives to frugality. Neither the 
master learns frugahty from the necessity of labor, nor 
the slave from the benefits which it confers. And hence, 
while the one party wastes from ignorance of the laws of 
acquisition, and the other because he can have no motive 
to economy, capital must accumulate but slowly, if indeed 
it accumulate at all. 

And that such are the tendencies of slavery, is manifest 
from observation. No country, not of great fertility, can 
long sustain a large slave population. Soils of more than 
ordinary fertility cannot sustain it long, after the first rich- 
ness of the soil has been exhausted. Hence, slavery m 
this country is acknowledged to have impoverished many 
of our most valuable districts ; and, hence, it is continually 
migrating from the older settlements, to those new and 
untilled regions, where the accumulated manure of centuries 
of vegetation has formed a soil, whose productiveness may, 
for a while, sustain a system at variance with the laws of 
nature. Many of our free and of our slave-holding States 



LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED. 209 

were peopled at about tlie same time. The slave-bolding 
States had every advantage, both in soil and climate, over 
their neighbors. And yet the accumulation of capital has 
been greatly in favor of the latter. If any one doubt 
whether this difference be owing to the use of slave labor, 
let him ask himself what would have T3een the condition of 
the slave-holding States, at this moment, if they had been 
inhabited, from the beginning, by an industrious yeomanry ; 
each one holding his own land, and each one tilling it with 
the labor of his own hands. 

But let us inquire what is the doctrine of revelation on 
this subject. 

The moral precepts of the Bible are diametrically 
opposed to slavery. They are, Thou shalt love thy 
neighbor as thyself, and all things whatsoever ye would 
that men should do unto you, do ye even so unto them. 

1. The application of these precepts is universal. Our 
neighbor is every one whom we may benefit. The obliga- 
tion respects all things whatsoever. The precept, then, 
manifestly, extends to men, as men, or men in every con- 
dition ; and if to all things whatsoever, certainly to a thing 
so important as the right to pei-sonal liberty. 

2. Again. By this precept, it is made our duty to cherish 
as tender and delicate a respect for the right which the 
meanest individual possesses over the means of happiness 
bestowed upon him by God, as we cherish for our own 
right over our own means of happiness, or as we desire any 
other individual to cherish for it. Now, were this precept 
obeyed, it is manifest that slavery could not in fact exist for 
a single instant. The principle of the precept is absolutely 
subversive of the principle of slavery. That of the one is 
the entire equality of right ; that of the other, the entire 
absorption of the rights of one in the rights of the other. 

If any one doubt respecting the bearing of the Scripture 
precept upon this case, a few plain questions may throw 
additional light upon the subject. For instance, — 

1. Do the precepts and the spirit of the Gospel allow 

:ne to derive my support from a system, which extorts 

labor from my fellow-men, without allowing them any voice 

in the equivalent which they shall receive ; and which can 

18* 



210 MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL 

only be sustained by keeping them in a state of mental 
degradation, and by shutting them out, in a great degree, 
from the means of salvation ? 

2. Would the master be willing that another person 
should subject him to slaveiy, for the same reasons, and on 
the same grounds, that he holds his slave in bondage ? 

3. Would the gospel allow us, if it were in our power, 
to reduce our fellow-citizens of our own color to slavery ? 
But the gospel makes no distinction between men on the 
ground of color or of race. God has made of one blood all 
the nations that dwell on the earth. I think that these 
questions will easily ascertain the gospel principles on this 
subject. 

But to this it is objected, that the gospel never forbids 
slavery ; and, still more, that, by prescribing the duties of 
masters and servants, it tacitly allows it. This objection 
is of sufficient importance to deserve attentive consid- 
eration. 

The following will, I think, be considered by both par- 
ties a fair statement of the teaching of the New Testament 
on this subject. The moral principles of the gospel are 
directly subversive of the principles of slavery ; but, on the 
other hand, the gospel neither commands masters to manumit 
their slaves, nor authorizes slaves to free themselves from 
their masters ; and, also, it goes further, and prescribes the 
duties suited to both parties in their present condition. 

First. Now, if this be admitted, it will, so far as I see, 
be sufficient for the argument. For if the gospel be dia- 
metrically opposed to the principle of slavery, it must be 
opposed to the practice of slavery ; and, therefore, were the 
principles of the gospel fully adopted, slavery could not 
exist. 

Secondly. 1 . I suppose that it will not be denied, that God 
has a right to inform us of his will in any manner that he 
pleases ; and that the intimation of his will, in what manner 
soever signified, is binding upon the conscience. 

2. Hence, God may make known to us his will either 
directly or indirecdy ; and if that will be only distinctly sig- 
nified, it is as binding in the one case as in the other 
Thus, he may, in express terms, forbid a certain course of 



LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED. !211 

conduct ; this is forbidding it directly ; or else he may 
command certain duties, or impose certain obhgations, with 
which that course of conduct is manifesdy inconsistent; 
this is forbidding it indirectly. It is sufficient, in either 
case, in order to constitute the obhgation, that the will oi 
God be known. 

3. The question, then, resolves itself into this : Has God 
imposed obligations upon men which are inconsistent with 
the existence of domestic slavery ? That he has, may, I 
think, be easily shown. 

a. He has made it our duty to proclaim the gospel to 
all men, without respect to cu'cumstance or condition. If 
it be our duty to proclaim the gospel to eveiy creature, it 
must be our duty to give to every creature every means for 
attaining a knowledge of it ; and, yet more imperatively, 
not to place any obstacles in the way of their attaining that 
knowledge. 

b. He has taught us, that the conjugal relation is estab- 
lished by himself; that husband and wife are joined together 
by God ; and that man may not put them asunder. The 
marriage contract is a contract for life, and is dissoluble 
only for one cause, that of conjugal infidelity. Any system 
that interferes with this contract, and claims to make it any 
thing else than what God has made it, is in violation ot 
his law. 

c. God has established the parental and filial relations, 
and has imposed upon parents and children appropriate and 
peculiar duties. The child is bound to honor and obey 
the parent ; the parent to support and educate the child, 
and to bring him up in the nurture and admonition of the 
Lord. With these relations and obligations, no created 
being has a right to interfere. A system which claims 
authority to sever these relations, and to annihilate these 
obligations, must be at variance with the will of God. 

y^ 4. That the Christian religion does establish these rela- 
tions, and impose these obligations, will not, I think, be 
disputed. Now, they either are, or are not, inconsistent 
with the existence of domestic slavery. If they are incon- 
jistent with the existence of slavery, then slavery is indi- 
rectly forbidden by the Christian religion; If they are not 



212 MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL 

inconsistent with it, then, that interference with them, 
which slavery exercises, is as uncalled for as it would be 
in any other case ; and is the infliction of just so much 
gratuitous, inexcusable, and demoralizing misery. And, as 
we have before said, what is indirectly forbidden in the 
Scripture, is as truly forbidden as though it were directly 
forbidden. 

But it may be asked, Why was this manner of forbidding 
It chosen in preference to any other? I reply that this 
question we are not obliged to answer. It is enough for us 
to show that it is forbidden. It is this which establishes 
the obligation, and this obligation cannot be in the least 
affected by the reason which may be given, for the 
manner in which God has seen fit to reveal it. 

The reason may be, that slavery is a social evil ; and 
that, in order to eradicate it, a change must be effected in 
the society in which it exists, and that this change would 
De better effected by the inculcation of the principles them- 
selves which are opposed to slaveiy, than by the inculca- 
tion of a direct precept. Probably all social evils are thus 
most successfully remedied. 

We answer, again, this very course which the gospel takes 
on this subject, seems to have been the only one that could 
have been taken, in order to effect the universal abolition of 
slavery. The gospel was designed, not for one race, or for 
one time, but for all races, and for all times. It looked 
not at the abolition of this form of evil for that age alone, 
but for its universal abolition. Hence, the important 
object of its Author was, to gain it a lodgment in every part 
of the known world; so that, by its universal diffusion 
among all classes of society, it might quietly and peacefully 
modify and subdue the evil passions of men ; and thus, 
without violence, work a revolution in the whole mass of 
mankind. In this manner alone could its object, a univer- 
sal moral revolution, have been accomplished. For, if it had 
forbidden the evil, instead of subverting the principle ; if it 
had proclaimed the unlawfulness of slavery, and taught 
Slaves to resist the oppression of their masters ; it would 
instantly have arrayed the two parties in deadly hostility, 
tnroughout the civilized world: its announcement would 



LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED. 213 

have been the signal of servile war ; and the very name of 
the Christian religion would have been forgotten amidst the 
agitations of universal bloodshed. The fact, under these 
circumstances, that the gospel does not forbid slavery, af- 
fords no reason to suppose that it does not mean to pro- 
hibit it ; much less does it afford ground for belief, that 
Jesus Christ intended to authoiize it, 

3. It is important to remember that two grounds of moral 
obligation are distinctly recognized in the gospel. The 
first is our duty to man, as man ; that is, on the gi'ound of 
the relation which men sustain to each other : the second 
is our duty to man, as a creature of God ; that is, on the 
ground of the relation which we all sustain to God. On 
this latter ground, many things become our duty which 
would not be so on the former. It is on this ground, that 
we are commanded to return good for evil, to pray for them 
that despitefully use us, and when we are smitten on one 
cheek, to turn also the other. To act thus is our duty, 
not because our fellow-man has a right to claim this course 
of conduct of us, nor because he has a right to inflict injury 
upon us, but because such conduct in us will be well pleasing 
to God. And when God prescribes the course of conduct 
which will be well pleasing to him, he by no means ac- 
knowledges the right of abuse in the injurious person, but 
expressly declares, Vengeance is mine, and I ivill repay it, 
saith the Lord. Now, it is to be observed, that it is precise- 
ly upon this latter ground, that the slave is commanded to 
obey his master. It is never urged, like the duty of obe- 
dience to parents, because it is right ; but because the cul- 
tivation of meekness and forbearance under injury, will be 
well pleasing unto God. Thus, servants are commanded 
to be obedient to their own masters, " in singleness of 
heart, as unto Christ ;" " doing the will of God from the 
heart, with good will doing service as to the Lord, and not 
to meny Eph. vi, 5 — 7. " Servants are commanded to 
".ount their masters worthy of all honor, that the name of 
God and his doctrine be not blasphemed.^^ 1 TXm. vi, 1. 
"Exhort servants to be obedient to their own masters," 
&tc., " that they may adorn the doctrine of God our Savior 
in all ihin^sJ^ Titus iii, 9. The manner in which the 



21.4 MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL 

doty of servants or slaves is inculcated, therefore, affords 
no ground for the assertion, that the gospel authorizes one 
man to hold another in bondage, any more than the com 
mand to honor the king, when that king was Nero, author 
ized the tyranny of the emperor ; or than the command to 
turn the other cheek, when one is smitten, justifies the 
infliction of violence by an injurious man.* 

In a word, if the gospel rule of conduct be directly at 
variance with the existence ^f slavery; if the relations 
which it establishes, and the obligations which it enforces, 
are inconsistent with its existence ; if the manner in which 
it treats it, is the only manner in which it could attempt its 
utter and universal extermination ; and if it inculcates the 
duty of slaves on principles which have no connection with 
the question of the right of masters over them ; 1 think it 
must be conceded that the precepts of the gospel in no 
manner countenance, but are entirely opposed to, the in- 
stitution of domestic slavery. 

Before closing this part of the subject, it may be proper 
to consider the question. What is the duty of masters and 
slaves, under a condition of society in which slavery new 
exists ? 
* I. As to masters. 

If the system be wrong, as we have endeavored to show, 
if it be at variance with our duty both to God and to man, 
it must be abandoned. If it be asked. When ? I ask again, 
When shall a man begin to cease doing wrong ? Is not the 
answer always. Immediately ? If a man is injuring us, do 
we ever doubt as to the time when he ought to cease? 
There is then no doubt in respect to the time when we 
ought to cease inflicting injury upon others. 

But it may be said, immediate abolition would be the 
greatest possible injury to the slaves themselves. -They are 
not compbetent to self-government. 

This is a question of fact, which it is not within the prov- 
ince of moral philosophy to decide. It very likely may be 

* I have retained tlie above paragraph, though I confess that the re- 
marks of Professor Taylor, of the Union Theological Seminary of Vir- 
ginia, have led me seriously to doubt whether the distinction to which 
it alludes is sustained by the New Testament. 



LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED. 215 

SO. So far as I know, the facts are not sufficiently known 
to warrant a fiill opinion on the subject. We wUl, there- 
fore, suppose it to be the case, and ask. What is the duty 
of masters under these circunistances ? 

1. The situation of the slaves, in which this obstacle to 
their emancipation consists, is not by their oivn act, but by 
the act of their masters ; and, therefore, the masters are 
bound to remove it. The slaves were brought here with- 
out their own consent, they have been continued in their 
present state of degradation without their own consent, and 
they are not responsible for the consequences. If a man 
have done injustice to his neighbor, and have also placed 
impediments in the way of remedying that injustice, he is 
as much under obligation to remove the impediments in the 
way of justice, as he is to do justice. Were it otherwise, 
a man might, by the accumulation of injury, at last render 
the most ati-ocious injury innocent and right. 

2. But it may be said, this cannot be done, unless the 
slave is held in bondage until the object be accomphshed. 
This is also a question of fact, on which I will not pretend 
to decide. But suppose it to be so, the question returns, 
What then is the duty of the master ? I answer, supposing 
such to be the fact, it may be the duty of the master to hold 
the slave ; not, however, on the ground of right over him, 
but of obligation to him, and of obligation to him for the 
purpose of accomplishing a particular and specified good. 
And, of course, he who holds him for any other purpose, holds 
him wrongfully, and is guilty of the sin of slavery. In the 
mean while, he is mnocQiiX in just so far as he, in the fear ol 
God, holds the slave, not for the good of the master, but for 
the good of the slave, and with the entii^e and honest intention 
of accomplishing the object as soon as he can, and of libera- 
ting the slave as soon as the object is accomphshed. He 
thus admits the slave to equality of right. He does unto 
another as he would that another should do unto him ; and, 
thus acting, though he miy inform hold a fellow-creature 
\n bondage, he is in fact innocent of the crime of violation 
of liberty. This ophiion, however, proceeds upon tlie sup- 
position that the facts are as above stated. As to the 
question of fact, I do not feel competent to a decision. 



216 MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL 

II. The duty of slaves is also explicitly made known m 
the Bible. They are bound to obedience, fidelity, sub- 
mission, and respect to their masters, not only to the good 
and kind, but also to the unkind and froward ; not, how- 
ever, on the ground of duty to man, but on the ground of 
duty to God. This obligation extends to every thing but 
matters of conscience. When a master commands a slave 
to do wrong, the slave ought not to obey. The Bible 
does not, as I suppose, authorize resistance to injury ; but it 
commands us to refuse obedience in such a case, and suffer 
the consequences, looking to God alone, to whom ven- 
geance belongeth. Acting upon these principles, the slave 
may attain to the highest grade of virtue, and may exhibit 
a sublimity and purity of moral character, which, in the 
condition of the master, is absolutely unattainable. 

Thus we see that the Christian religion not only forbids 
slavery, but that it also provides the only method in which, 
after it has once been established, it may be abolished, and 
that with entire safety and benefit to both parties. By in- 
stilling the right moral dispositions into the bosom of the 
master and of the slave, it teaches the one the duty of re- 
ciprocity, and the other the duty of submission ; and thus, 
without tumult, without disorder, without revenge, but, by 
the real moral improvement of both parties, restores both to 
the relation towards each other intended by their Creator. 

Hence, if any one will reflect on these facts, and remem- 
ber the moral law of the Creator, and the terrible sanctions 
by which his laws are sustained, and also the provision 
which in the gospel of reconciliation. He has made for re- 
moving this evil after it has once been established ; he must, 
I think, be convinced of the imperative obligation which 
rests upon him to remove it without the delay of a moment. 
Tlie Judge of the whole earth will do justice. He hears 
the cry of the oppressed, and he will, in the end, terribly 
vindicate right. And, on the other hand, let those who 
suffer wrongfully, bear their sufferings with patience, com- 
mitting their souls unto him as unto a faithful Creator, 

Part IL The right of personal liberty may be violated 
by Society. 

As the right to use the means of happmess which God 



LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATEL 217 

has given him in such manner as he will, p'ovided he do 
not violate the corresponding rights of others, is confen'ed 
upon the individual by his Creator, it is manifest that no 
being but the Creator can rightly restrict it. The individual 
IS just as tmly, in this sense, independent of society, as he 
is of individuals. Society is composed of individuals, and 
can have no otlier rights than the individuals of which it is 
composed, only in just so far as the individual voluntarily, 
and for an equivalent, has conceded to it, in given and lim- 
ited respects, some of the rights of which he was originally 
possessed. Whenever society interferes with these original 
rights, unless in the cases in wliich they have been volun- 
taiily ceded, then the right of personal liberty is violated 
Thus, the Declaration of Independence, above quoted, after 
having asserted the universahty of the equahty of men, 
by v-irtue of their creation, and that they are endowed by 
their Creator with certain inalienable rights, among which 
are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, proceeds to 
state, " that, to secure these rights, governments were insti- 
tuted among men, deriving their just powers from the con- 
sent of the governed ;" (that is, by the concession of the 
individual to society ;) " that, when any form of government 
becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people 
to alter or to abolish it, and to institute a new government, 
laying its foundation in such piinciples, and organizing its 
powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to 
effect their safety and happiness." 

Society may violate the personal rights of the individual. 

1. By depriving him unjustly of his physical liberty, or 
any of his means of physical happiness. This is done, first, 
whenever any individual is imprisoned or punished, except 
for crime. 

2. Whenever, although he may have been guilty of 
crime, he is imprisoned or punished without a fair and im- 
partial trial ; for, as every man is presumed to be innocent 
until he shall have been proved to be guilty, to imprison or 
molest him without such proof is to imprison or molest him 
while he is innocent. This remark, however, does not 
apply to the detention of prisoners in order to trial. The 
detention in this case is not for the purposes of punishment, 

19 



218 MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL 

but simply to prevent escape, and as a necessary means for 
the execution of justice. It is also no injustice ; for it is a 
power over their persons which the mdividuals have, for 
mutual good, conceded to society. 

3. Inasmuch as every individual has the right to go where 
he pleases, under the limitations above specified, this right 
is violated, not merely by confining him to a particular 
place, but also by forbidding his going to any particular 
place within the limits of the society to which he oelongs, 
or by forbidding him to leave it when and how he pleases 
As his connection with the society to which he belongs is a 
voluntary act, his simple will is an ultimate reason why he 
should leave it ; and the free exercise of this will cannot, 
without injustice, be restrained. 

The great clause in the Magna Charta on this general 
subject, is in these memorable words : " Let no freeman 
be imprisoned, or disseized, or outlawed, or in any manner 
injured or proceeded against by us, otherwise than by the 
legal judgment of his peers, or by the law of the land." 
And the full enjoyment of this right is guaranteed to every 
individual in this country and in Great Britain, by the 
celebrated act of Habeas Corpus : by which, upon a 
proper presentation of the case before a judge, the judge is 
under obligation, if there be cause, to command the person 
who has the custody of another, to bring him immediately 
before him ; and is also obliged to set the prisoner at large, 
unless it appear to him that he is deprived of his liberty for 
a satisfactory reason. 

2. Society may violate the rights of the individual by 
restraining his intellectual liberty. 

I have before stated that a man has the right to the use 
of his intellect in such manner as he pleases, provided he 
interfere not with the rights of others. This includes, first, 
the right to pursue what studies he pleases ; and, secondly, 
to pubhsh them when and where he pleases, subject to tlie 
above limitation. 

1. This right is violated, first, when society, or govern- 
ment, which is its agent, prohibits any course of study or 
investigation to which the inclination of the individual may 
determine him. 



LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED. 219 

• 

2. When government prohibits him from pubhsliing these 
results, and from attempting, by the use of argument, to 
make as many converts to his opinions as he can, in both 
cases within the hmits specified. If it be said, that men 
may thus be led into eiTor, the answer is. For this error the 
individuals themselves, and not their neighbor, are respon- 
sible ; and, therefore, the latter has no authority to interfere. 

These remarks apply to those cases only, in which the 
use of the individual's intellect is without injury to the 
rights of others. They, however, by the terms of the 
case, exclude those modes of intellectual employment, 
which do thus interfere. It is obvious, that a man has 
no more right to restrict, by the use of his intellect, my 
just control over the means of happiness bestowed upon 
me, than by the use of his body, or the use of his property. 
What I have said, therefore, in no manner precludes the 
right of society to restrict the use of the individual's intel- 
lect, in those cases where this violation exists. 

But when this violation is supposed to exist, by what 
mle is society to be governed, so as, in the exercise of the 
rio:ht of restraint, to avoid infrino-ement of the law of intel- 
lectual liberty ? I am aware that the decision of this ques- 
tion is attended with great difficulties. I shall, however, 
endeavor to suggest such hints as seem to me to throw 
hght upon it, in the hope that the attention of some one 
better able to elucidate it, may be thus more particularly 
attracted to the discussion. 

1. Society is bound to protect those rights of the indi- 
vidual which he has committed to its charge. Among 
these, for instance, is reputation. As the individual relin- 
quishes the right of protecting his own reputation, as well 
as his property, society undertakes to protect it for him. 

2. Society has the right to prevent its own destruction. 
As, without society, individual man would, almost univer- 
sally, perish ; so men, by the law of self-preservation, have 
a right to prohibit those modes of using a man's mind, as 
well as those of using his body, by which society would be 
annihilated. 

3. As society has the right to employ its power to pre- 
vent its own dissolution, it also has the same right to pro- 



220 MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL 

tect itself from causeless injury. A man has no more right 
to cany on a trade by which his neighbor is annoyed, than 
one by which he is poisoned. S^j, if the employment of a 
man's intellect be not of such a character as to be positively 
fatal, yet, if it be positively mischievous, and if such be 
its manifest tendency, society has a right to interfere and 
prohibit it. 

4. It is, however, a general principle, that society is 
not to interfere, while the individual has in himself the 
means of repelling, or of rendering nugatory, the injury. 
Whenever, therefore, although the publication of opinions 
be confessedly injurious, the injury is of such a nature, 
that every individual can protect himself from it, society 
leaves the individual to the use of that power which he 
still retains, and which is sufficient to remedy the evil. 

If I mistake not, these principles will enable us to dis- 
tinguish between those cases in which it is, and those in 
which it is not, the duty of society to interfere with the 
freedom of the human intellect. 

1. Whenever the individual possesses within himself the 
means of repelling the injury, society should not interfere. 
As, for instance, so far as an assertion is false, and false 
simply, as in philosophical or mathematical eiTor, men have, 
in their own understandings and their instinctive perception 
of truth, a safeguard against injury. And, besides this, 
when discussion is free, error may be refuted by argument ; 
and in this contest, truth has always, from the constitution 
of things, the advantage. It needs not, therefore, physical 
force to assist it. The confutation of error is also decisive. 
It reduces it absolutely to nothing. Whereas the forcible 
'prohibition of discussion leaves things precisely as they 
were, and gives to error the additional advantage of the 
presumption, that it could not be answered by argument ; 
that is, that it is the truth. 

2. But, suppose the matter made public is also injurious, 
and is either false, or, if true, is of such a nature as directly 
to tend to the destruction of individual or social happiness, 
and the individual has not in himself the power of repelling 
the injury. Here, the facts being proved, society is bound 
to interfere, and impose such penalty, and render such 



LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED- 221 

redress, as shall, if possible, remunerate the injured party , 
or, at least, prevent the repetition of the offence. 
Under this head, several cases occur : 

1 . If a man use his intellect for the purpose of destroy- 
ing his neighbor's reputation, it is the duty of society to 
interfere. There is here a manifest injuiy, inasmuch as 
reputation is a means of happiness, and as much the prop- 
erty of an individual, as his house or lands, or any other 
result of his industry. He has, besides, no method of 
redress within himself; for he may be ruined by a general 
assertion, which is in its nature incapable of being disproved. 
As if A asserted that B had stolen ; this, if believed, would 
ruin B ; but he could not disprove it, unless he could sum- 
mon all the men with whom, in his whole life, he had 
ever had any pecuniary transactions. Besides, if he could 
do this, he could never convey the facts to all persons to 
whom A had conveyed the scandal. Were such actions 
allowed, every one might be deprived of his reputation, 
one of his most valuable means of happiness. It is the 
duty of society, therefore, in this case, to guard the rights 
of the individual, by granting him redress, and preventing, 
the repetition of the injury. 

2. Inasmuch as men are actuated by various passionSj 
which are only useful when indulged within certain re- 
straints, but which, wlien indulged without these restraints, 
are destructive of individual right, as well as of society 
itself ; society has a right to prohibit the use of intellect for 
tlie purpose of exciting the passions of men beyond those 
limits. As he is guilty who robs another, so is he also 
guilty who incites another to robbery ; and still more, he who 
incites, not one man, but a multitude of men, to robbery. 
Hence, society has a right to prohibit obscene books, ob- 
scene pictures, and every thing of which the object and 
tendency is to promote lasciviousness. On the same 
D-round, it has a right to proliibit incendiary and seditious 
publications, and every thing which would provoke the 
enmity or malice of men against each other. 

The reason of this is, first, injury of this kind cannot be 
i-epelled by argimient, for it is not addressed to the reason ; 
and the very mention of the subject excites those imagma- 
19* 



222 MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL 

tions, from which the myiry to society arises. As the evi. 
is susceptible of no other remedy than prohibition, and as 
the welfare of society requires that a remedy be found, 
prohibition is the right and the duty of society. 

Another reason, applicable to most publications of this 
sort, is found in the nature of the parental relation. The 
parent, being the guardian of his child's morals, has the 
right of directing what he shall and what he shall not read 
Hence, all the parents of a community, that is, society at 
large, have a right to forbid such books as shall, in their 
opinion, injure the moral character of their children. 

3. Again. Society may be dissolved, not merely by the 
excitation of unlawful passion, but by the removal of moral 
restraint. Every one must see that, if moral distinctions 
were aboHshed, society could not exist for a moment. Men 
inight be gregarious, but they would cease to be social. 
If any one, therefore, is disposed to use his intellect for 
the purpose of destroying, in the minds of men, the dis- 
tinction between virtue and vice, or any of those funda- 
mental principles on which the existence of society depends, 
society has a right to interfere and prohibit him. 

This right of society is founded, first, upon the right of 
self-preservation ; and, secondly, upon the gi'ound of com- 
mon sense. Society is not bound to make, over and over 
again, an experiment which the whole history of man has 
proved always to end in licentiousness, anarchy, misery, 
and universal bloodshed. Nor can any man claim a right 
to use his mind in a way which must, if allowed, produce 
unmixed misery and violation of right, wherever its influence 
is exerted. ^ 

Besides, in this, as in the other cases specified, society 
has no means of counteracting the injury by argument; 
because such appeals are made, not to the reason and the 
conscience, but to the rapacious passions of men ; and, 
also, because those persons who would listen to such sug- 
gestions, would rarely, if ever, be disposed to read, much 
less to examine and reflect upon, any argument that could 
be offered. 

But it may be objected, that a society constituted on 
these principles, might check the progress of free inquiry, 



LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED. 223 

and, under the pretext of injurious tendency, limit the 
liberty of fair discussion. 

To this it may be answered, — 

It is no objection to a iiile, that it is capable of abuse ; 
for this objection \^"ill apply to all laws and to all an'ange- 
ments that man has ever deviled. In the present imper- 
fect condition of human nature, it is frequently sufficient 
that a rule prevents greater e\il than it inflicts. 

It is granted that men may suppose a discussion injuri- 
ous when it is not so, and may thus limit, unnecessarily, the 
freedom of inquiiy. But let us see in what manner this 
abuse is oruarded asjainst. 

The security, in this case, is the trial by jury. When 
twelve men, taken by lot from the whole community, sit in 
judgment, and specially when the accused has the right 
of excepting, for cause, to as many as he will, he is sure 
of having, at least, an impartial tribunal. These judges 
are themselves under the same law which they administer 
to others. As it is not to be supposed that they would 
wish to abridge their own personal liberty, it is not to be 
supposed that they would be willing to abridge it for the 
sake of interfering with that of their neighbor. The 
question is, therefore, placed in the hands of as impartial 
judges as the nature of the case allows. To siich a tri- 
bunal, no reasonable man can, on principle, object. To 
their decision, every candid man would, when his duty to 
God did not forbid, readily submit. 

Now, as it must be gi'anted that no man has a right to 
use his intellect to the injury of a community, the only 
question in any particular case, is, whether the use com- 
plained of is injurious, and injurious in such a sense as to 
require the interference of society. It surely does not 
need aigument to show that the unanimous decision of 
twelve men is more likely to be correct than the decision 
of one man ; and specially that the decision of twelve men, 
who have no personal interest in the affair, is more likely to 
be correct, than that of one man who is liable to all the 
influences of personal vanity, love of distinction, and pecu- 
niary emolument. There surely can be no question 
whether, in a matter on which the dearest interests of 



224 MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL 

Others are concerned, a man is to be a judge in his own 
case, or whether as impartial a tribunal as the ingenuity of 
man has ever devised, shall judge for him. If it be said 
that twelve impartial men are liable to error, and by con- 
sequence to do injustice, it may be answered. How much 
more liable is one, and he a. p(irtial man, to err and to do 
injustice ! If, then, a system of trial of this sort, not only 
must prevent more injury than it inflicts, but is free from 
all liabihty to injury, except such as restdts from the ac- 
knowledged imperfections of our nature, the fault, if it 
exist, is not in the rule, but in the nature of man, and 
must be endured until the nature of man be altered. 

And I cannot close this discussion without remarking, 
that a most solemn and imperative duty seems to me to 
rest upon judges, legislators, jurors and prosecuting officers, 
in regard to this subject. We hear, at the present day, 
very much about the liberty of the press, the freedom of 
inquiry, and the freedom of the human intellect. All these 
are precious blessings — ^by far too precious to be lost. But 
it is to be remembered, that no liberty can exist without 
restraint ; and the remark is as true of intellectual as of 
physical liberty. As there could be no physical liberty, if 
every one, both bad and good, did what he would, so there 
would so®n be no liberty, either physical or intellectual, if 
every man were allowed to publish what he would. The man 
who publishes what will inflame the licentious passions, or 
subvert the moral principles of others, is undermining the 
foundations of the social fabric ; and it is kindness neither 
to him nor to society, quietly to look on until both he and 
we are crushed beneath the ruins. The danger to liberty 
is preeminently greater, at the present day, from the licen- 
tiousness than from the restriction of the press. It there- 
fore becomes all civil and judicial officers to act as the 
guardians of society ; and, unawed by popular clamor, and 
unseduced by popular favor, resolutely to defend the people 
against their worst enemies. Whatever may be the form 
of a government, it cannot long continue free, after it has 
refused to acknowledge the distinction between the liberty 
and the licentiousness of the press. And, much as we 
may execrate a profligate writer, let us remember that the 



LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED. 225 

civil officer who, from pusillanimity, refuses to exercise the 
power placed in his hands to restrain abuse, deserves, at 
least, an equal share of our execration. 

Thirdly. The right of religious liberty may be vio- 
lated by society. 

We have before said, that every individual has the right 
to pursue his own happiness, by worshipping his Creator in 
any way that he pleases, provided he do not interfere with 
the rights of his neighbor. 

This includes the following things : He is at liberty to 
woi-ship God in any form that he deems most acceptable 
to Him, to worship individually or socially, and to promote 
that form of worship which he considers acceptable to 
God, by the promulgation of such sentiments as he be- 
lieves to be true, provided he leave the rights of his 
neighbors unmolested ; and of this liberty he is not to be 
restricted, unless such molestation be made manifest to a 
jury of his peers. 

As a man is at liberty to worship God individually or in 
societies collected for that purpose, if his object can be 
secured, in his own opinion, by the enjoyment of any of 
the facilities for association granted to other men for inno- 
cent purposes, he is entided to them just as other men are. 
The general principle applicable to the case, I suppose to 
be this : A man, in consequence of being religious, that is, 
of worshipping God, acquires no human right whatever ; 
for it is, so far as his fellow-men's rights are concerned, 
tlie same thing, whether he worship God or not. And, on 
the other hand, in consequence of being religious, he loses 
no right, and for the same reason. And, therefore, as men 
are entitled to all innocent facilities which they need for 
prosecuting an innocent object, a religious man has the 
same right to these facilities for promoting his object ; • and 
It is the business of no one to inquire whether this be reli- 
gious, scientific, mechanical, or any other, so long as it is 
merely imiocent. 

Now this right is violated by society, — 

1 . By forbidding the exercise of all religion ; as in the 
case of the French Revolution. 

2. By forbidding or enforcing the exercise of any form 



226 MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL 

of religion. In so far as an act is religious, society has no 
right of control over it. If it interfere with the rights of 
others, this puts it within the control of society, and this 
alone, and solely for this reason. The power of society is, 
therefore, in this case, exercised simply on the ground of 
injury perpetrated and proved, and not on account of the 
truth or falseness, the goodness or badness, of the religion 
in the sight of the Creator. 

3. By inflicting disabilities upon men, or depriving them 
of any of their rights as men, because they are or are not 
religious. This violation occurs in all cases in which society 
interferes to deny to religious men the same privileges for 
promoting their happiness by way of religion, as they enjoy 
for promoting their happiness in any other innocent way. 
Such is the case when religious societies are denied the 
right of incorporation, with all its attendant privileges, for 
the purposes of religious worship, and the promotion of their 
religious opinions. Unless it can be shown that the enjoy- 
ment of such privileges interferes with the rights of others, 
the denial of them is a violation of religious liberty. De- 
priving clergymen of the elective franchise, is a violation of 
a similar character. 

4. By placing the professors of any peculiar form of 
religion under any disabilities ; as, for instance, rendering 
them ineligible to office, or in any manner making a dis- 
tinction between them and any other professors of religion, 
or any other men. As society has no right to inflict dis- 
abilities upon men, on the ground of their worshipping God 
in general, by consequence, it has no right to inflict dis- 
abilities on the ground of worshipping God in any manner 
in particular. If the whole subject is without the control 
of society, a part of it is also without its control. Different 
modes of worship may be more or less acceptable to 
God ; but this gives to no man a right to interfere with 
those means of happiness, which God has conferred upon 
any other man. 

The question may arise here, whether society has a right 
to provide by law for the support of religious instmction. 
I answer. If the existence of religious instruction be neces- 
sary to the existence of society, and if there be no other 



LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED. 227 

mode of providing for its support, but by legislative enact- 
ment, then, I do not see any more violation of principle m 
such enactment, than in that for the support of comnion 
schools ; provided that no one were obliged to attend unless 
he chose, and that every one were allowed to pay for that 
form of worship w hich he preferred. There are other ob- 
jections, however, to such a course, aside from that arising 
from the supposed violation of civil liberty. 

1. It cannot be shown that religious teachers cannot be 
supported without legislative aid. The facts teach a differ- 
ent result. 

2. The religion of Christ has always exerted its greatest 
power when, entirely unsupported, it has been left to exert 
its own peculiar effect upon the consciences of men. 

3. The support of religion by law is at variance with the 
genius of the gospel. The gospel supposes every man to 
be purely voluntary in his service of God, in his choice of 
the mode of worship, of his religious teachers, and of the 
compensation v/hich he will make to them for their ser- 
vices. Now, all this is reversed in the supposition of a 
ministry supported by civil power. We therefore conclude 
that, although such support might be provided without in- 
terference with civil liberty, it could not be done without 
violation of the spirit of the gospel. That is, though the 
state might be desirous of affording aid to the church, the 
church is bound, on principle, resolutely and steadfastly to 
protest against in any manner receiving it. 

4. And I think that the facts will show that this view of 
the subject is coiTect. The clergy, as a profession, are 
better remunerated by voluntary support than by legal 
enactment. When the people arrange the matter of com- 
pensation with their clergymen themselves, there are no 
rich and overgrown benefices, but there are also but few 
miserably poor curacies. The minister, if he deserve it. 
generally lives as well as his people. If it be said that high 
talent should be rewarded by elevated rank in this profession, 
as in any other, I answer, that such seems to me not to be 
the genius of the gospel. The gospel presents no induce- 
ments of worldly rank or of official dignity, and it scoms to 
hold out such motives to the reliirious teacher. I answer 



228 MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL, ETC. 

again, official rank and luxunous splendor, instead of adding 
to, take from, the real influence of a teacher of religion. 
They tend to destroy that moral hardihood which is neces- 
sary to the success of him, whose object it is to render men 
better ; and, while they surround him with all the insignia 
of power, enervate that very spirit on which moral power 
essentially depends. And, besides, a religion supported by 
the government, must soon become the tool of the govern- 
ment ; or, at least, must be involved and implicated in every 
change which the government may undergo. How utterly 
at variance this must be with the principles of Him who 
declared, " My kingdom is not of this world," surely need 
not be illustrated. 



229 



CHAPTER SECOND. 

JUSTICE IN RESPECT TO PROPERTY. 
SECTION I. 

THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY. 

I. Definition of the right of property. 

The abstract right of property is the right to use some- 
thing in such manner as I choose. 

But, inasmuch as this right of use is common to all men, 
and as one may choose to use his property in such a way 
as to deprive his neighbor of this or of som.e other right, the 
right to use as I choose is limited by the restriction, that I 
do not interfere with the rights of my neighbor. The right 
of property, therefore, when thus restricted, is the right to 
use something as I choose, provided I do not so use it as to 
interfere with the rights of my neighbor. 

Thus, we see that, from the very nature of the case, the 
right of property is exclusive ; that is to say, if I have a 
right to any thing, this right excludes every one else from 
any right over that thing ; and it imposes upon every one 
else' the obligation to leave me unmolested in the use of it, 
within those limits to which my right extends. 

II. On what the right of property is founded. 

The right, of property is founded on the will of God, as 
made known to us by natural conscience, by general conse- 
quences, and by revelation. 

Every thing which we behold is essentially the property 
of the Creator ; and he has a right to confer the use of it 
upon whomsoever, and under what restrictions soever, he 
pleases. We may know in what relations he wills us to 
stand towards the things around us, by the principles which 
20 



230 THE RIGHT 01' VROPERTr. _ 

he has implanted within us, and by the result produced in 

individuals and communities by the different courses of 

conduct of which men are capable. 

Now God signifies to us his will on this subject, — 
First. By the decisions of natural conscience. This 

is known from several circumstances. 

1. All men, as soon as they begin to think, even in early 
youth and infancy, perceive this relation. They imme- 
diately appropriate certain things to themselves ; they feel 
injured, if their control over those things is violated, and 
they are conscious of guilt, if they violate this right in 
respect to others. 

2. The relation of property is expressed by the posses- 
sive pronouns. These are found in all languages. So 
universally is this idea difHised over the whole mass of 
human action and human feeling, that it would be scarcely 
possible for two human beings to converse for even a few 
minutes on any subject, or in any language, without the 
frequent use of the words which designate the relation of 
possession. 

3. Not only do men feel the importance of sustaining 
each other in the exercise of the right of property, but 
they manifestly feel that he who violates it has done wrong ; 
that is, has violated obligation, and hence deserves pun- 
ishment, on the ground, not simply of the consequences of 
the act, but of the guiltiness of the actor. Thus, if a man 
steal, other men are not satisfied when he has merely made 
restitution, although this may perfectly make up the loss 
to the injured party. It is always considered that some- 
thing more is due, either from God or from man, as a pun- 
ishment for the crime. Hence, the Jewish law enjoined 
tenfold restitution in cases of theft, and modern law inflicts 
fines, imprisonment, and corporal punishment, for the same 
offence. 

Secondly. That God wills the possession of property, is 
evident from the general consequences which result from 
the existence of this relation. 

The existence and progress of society, nay, the very 
existence of our race, depends upon the acknowledgment 
of this right. 



THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY. 231 

Were not every individual entitled to the results of his 
labor, and to the exclusive enjoyment of the benefits of 
these results, — 

1. No one would labor any more than was sufficient for 
his own individual subsistence, because he would have no 
more right than any other person to the value which he 
had created. 

2. Hence, there would be no accumulation ; of course, 
no capital, no tools^ no provision for the future, no houses, 
and no agriculture. Each man, alone, would be obliged 
to contend, at the same time, with the elements, with wild 
beasts, and also with his rapacious fellow-men. The human 
race, under such circumstances, could not long exist. 

3. Under such circumstances, the race of man must 
speedily perish, or its existence be prolonged, even in 
favorable climates, under every accumulation of wretched- 
ness. Progress would be out of the question ; and the 
only change which could take place, would be that arising 
from the pressure of heavier and heavier penury, as the spon- 
taneous productions of the eardi became rarer, from im- 
provident consumption, without any correspondent labor for 
reproduction. 

4. It needs only to be remarked, in addition, that just 
in proportion as the right of property is held inviolate, just 
in that proportion civilization advances, and the comforts 
and conveniences of hfe multiply. Hence it is, that, in 
free and well ordered governments, and specially during 
peace, property accumulates, all the orders of society enjoy 
the blessings of competence, the arts flourish, science ad- 
vances, and men begin to form some conception of the 
happiness of which the present system is capable. And, 
on the contrary, under despotism, when law spreads its 
protection over neither house, land, estate, nor life, and 
specially during civil wars, industry ceases, capital stag- 
nates, the arts decline, the people starve, population dimin- 
ishes, and men rapidly tend to a state of barbarism. 

Thirdly. The Holy Scriptures treat of the right of prop- 
erty as a thing acknowledged, and direct their precepsJ 
against every act by which it is violated, and also against 
ijie tempers of mind from which such violation proceeds. 



232 THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY. 

The doctrine of revelation is so clearly set forth on this 
subject, that I need not delay for the sake of dwelling 
upon it. It will be sufficient to refer to the prohibitions in 
the decalogue against stealing and coveting, and to the 
various precepts in the New Testament respecting our 
duty in regard to our neighbor's possessions. 
I proceed, in the next place, to consider, — 
III. The modes in which the right of property may be 
acquired. These may be divided into two classes: first, 
direct ; second, indirect. 
First. Direct. 

1. By the immediate gift of God. 

When God has given me a desire for any object, and 
has spread this object before me, and there is no rational 
creature to contest my claim, I may take that object, and 
use it as I will, subject only to the limitation of those obli- 
gations to Him, and to my fellow-creatures, which have 
been before specified. On this principle is founded my 
right to enter upon wild and unappropriated lands, to hunt 
wild game, to pluck wild fruit, to take fish, or any thing of 
this sort. This right is sufficient to exclude the right of any 
subsequent claimant ; for, if it has been given to me, that 
act of gift is valid, until it can be shown by another that 
it has been annulled. A grant of this sort, however, ap- 
plies only to an individual so long as he continues the locum 
tenens, and no longer. He has no right to enter upon unap- 
propriated land, and leave it, and then claim it afterward 
by virtue of his first possession. Were it otherwise, any 
mdividual might acquire a title to a whole continent, and 
exclude fi:-om it all the rest of his species. 

2. By the labor of our hands. 

Whatever value I have created by my own labor, or by 
the innocent use of the other means of happiness which 
God has given me, is mine. This is evident from the prin- 
ciple already so frequently referred to ; namely, that I 
have a right to use, for my own happiness, whatever God 
has given me, provided I use it not to the injury of another. 
Thus, if I catch a deer, or raise an ear of corn upon land 
otherwise unappropriated, that deer, or that corn, is mine. 
No reason can possibly be conceived, why any other being 



THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY. 233 

should raise a claim to them, which could extinguish, or 
even interfere with mine. 

This, however, is not meant to assert, that a man has a 
right to any thing more than to the results of his labor. 
He has no right, of course, to the results of the labor of 
another. If, by my labor, I build a mill, and employ a 
man to take the charge of it, it does not follow that he has 
a right to all the profits of the mill. If I, by my labor 
and frugahty, earn money to purchase a fami, and hke a 
laborer to work upon it, it does not follow that he has a 
right to all the produce of the farm. The profit is, in this 
case, to be divided between us. He has a right to the 
share which fairly belongs to his labor, and I have a right 
to the share that belongs to me, as the proprietor and pos- 
sessor of that which is the result of my antecedent labor. 
It would be as unjust for him to have the ivhole profit, as 
for me to have the whole of it. It is fairly a case of part- 
nei'ship, in which each party receives his share of the 
result, upon conditions previously and voluntarily agreed 
upon. This is the general principle of wages. 

Secondly. The right of property may be acquired in- 
directly. 

1. By exchange. 

Inasmuch as I have an exclusive right to appropriate, 
innocently, the possessions which I have acquired, by the 
means stated above, and, inasmuch as every other man has 
the same right, we may, if we choose, voluntarily exchange 
our light to particular things with each other. If I culti- 
vate wheat, and my neighbor cultivates corn, and we, both 
of us, have more of our respective production than we 
wish to use for ourselves, we may, on such terms as we 
can agree upon, exchange the one for the other. Property 
held in this manner is held rightfully. This exchange is 
of two kinds : first, barter, where the exchange on both 
sides, consists of commodities ; and, second, bargain and 
sale, where one of the parties gives, and the other receives, 
money for his property. 

2. By gift. 

As I may thus rightfully part with, and another party 
rightfully receive, my property, for an equivalent rendered, 
20* 



234 THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY. 

SO I may, if I choose, part with it without an equivalent , 
that is, merely to gratify my feelings of benevolence, oi 
affection, or gratitude. Here, I voluntarily confer upon 
another the right of ownership, and he may rightfully 
receive and occupy it. 

3. By will. 

As I have the right to dispose of my property as I 
please, during my hfe-time, and may exchange it or give it 
as I will, at any time previous to my decease, so I may 
give it to another, on the condition that he shall not enter 
into possession until after my death. Property acquired in 
this manner is held rightfully. 

4. By inheritance. 

Inasmuch as persons frequently die without making a 
will, society, upon general principles, presumes upon the 
manner in which the deceased would have distributed his 
property, had he made a will. Thus, it is supposed that he 
would distribute his wealth among his widow and children ; 
or, in failure of these, among his blood relations ; and in 
proportions corresponding to their degree of consanguinity. 
Property may be rightfully acquired in this manner. 

5. By possession. 

In many cases, although a man have no moral right to 
property, yet he may have a right to exclude others from 
it ; and others are under obligation to leave him unmolested 
in the use of it. Thus, a man has by fraud obtained pos- 
session of a farm, and the rightful owners have all died : 
now, although the present holder has no just tide to the 
property, yet, if it were to be taken from him and held by 
another, the second would have no better title than the 
first ; and a third person would have the same right to dis- 
possess the second, and in turn be himself dispossessed, and 
so on for ever ; that is, there would be endless controversy, 
without any nearer approximation to justice ; and hence, it 
is better that the case be left as it was in the first instance ; 
that is, in general, possession gives a right, so far as man i& 
concerned, to unmolested enjoyment, unless some one else 
can establish a better title. 

6. And hence, in general, I believe it will hold, that 
while merely the laws of society do not give a man any 



THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY. i235 

moral right to j^sroperty, yet, wlien these laws lia\'e once 
assigned it to him, this simple fact imposes a moral obliga- 
tion upon all other men to leave him in the undistm*bed 
possession of it. I have no more right to set fii-e to the 
house of a man, who has defrauded an orphan to obtain it, 
than I have to set fire to the house of any other man. 

To sum up what has been said, — property may be 
originally acquired either by the gift of God, or by our own 
labor: it may be subsequently acquu'ed either by exchange, 
or by gift during life, or by will ; but, in these cases of 
transfer of ownership, the free consent of the original owner 
is necessary to render the transfer morally right ; and, lastly, 
where the individual has not acquired property justly, yet 
mere possession, though it alters not his moral right to pos- 
session, yet it is a sufficient bar to molestation, unless some 
other claimant can prefer a better title. These, I think, 
comprehend the most important modes by which the right 
of property can be acquh'ed. 

That principles somewhat analogous to these are in 
accordance with the laws of God is, I think, evident from 
observation of the history of man. The more rigidly these 
principles have been carried into active operation, the 
greater amount of happiness has been secured to the indi- 
vidual, and the more rapidly do nations advance in civiliza- 
tion, and the more successfully do they carry into effect 
every means of mental and moral cultivation. The first 
steps that were taken in the recovery of Europe from the 
misery of the dark ages, consisted in defining and estab- 
lishing the right of property upon the basis of equitable 
and universal law. Until something of this &ort is done, 
no nation can emerge from a state of barbarism.* 

And hence we see the importance of an able, learned, 
upright, and independent judiciary, and the necessity to 
national prosperity of carrying the decisions of law into 
imiversal and impartial effect. It not unfrequently happens 
that, for the purposes of party, the minds of the people are 
inflamed against the tribunals whose duty it is to administer 
iustice ; or else, on the other hand, for the same purpose, a 

• Robertson's Preliminary Dissertation to the History of Charles V. 



236 MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY 

flagrant violation of justice by a popular favorite is looked 
upon as hamiless. Let it be remembered, that society must 
be dissolved, unless the supremacy of the law be maintained. 
*' The voice of the law " will cease to be " the harmony oi 
the world," unless " all things," both high and loWj *' do hei 
reverence." How often has even-handed justice commend 
ed the chalice to the lips of the demagogue ; and he has 
been the first to drink of that cup which he supposed him- 
self to be mingling for others ! 



SECTION II. 

MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY MAY BE VIOLATED 
BY THE INDIVIDUAL. 

I have already remarked, that the right of property, so 
far as it extends, is exclusive both of the individual and of 
society. This is true in respect to both parties. Thus, 
whatever I own, I own exclusively both of society and oi 
individuals ; and whatever either individuals or society own, 
they own exclusively of me. Hence, the right of property 
is equally violated by taking viciously either public or pri- 
vate property ; and it is equally violated by taking viciously, 
whether the aggressor be the public or an individual. And, 
moreover, it is exclusive to the full amount of what is 
aimed. It is, therefore, as tmly a violation of the right of 
property, to take a little as to take much ; to purloin a book 
or a penknife as to steal money ; to steal fruit as to steal a 
horse ; to defraud the revenue as to rob my neighbor ; to 
overcharge the public as to overcharge my brother; to 
cheat the post-office as to cheat my friend. 

It has already been observed, that a right to the property 
of another can be acquired only by his own voluntary 
choice. This follows, immediately from the definition of 
the right of property. But, in order to render this choice 
of right available, it must be influenced by no motives pre- 
sented wrongfully by the receiver Thus, if I demand a 



MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL. 237 

man's purse on the alternative that I will shoot him if he 
deny me, he may surrender it rather than be shot ; but I 
have no right to present such an alternative, and the con- 
sent of the owner renders it no less a violation of the right 
of property. If I inflame a man's vanity in order to induce 
him to buy of me a coach which, he does not want, the 
transaction is dishonest ; because I have gained his will by 
a motive which I had no right to use. So, if I represent an 
article in exchange to be different from what it is, I present 
a false motive, and gain his consent by a lie. And thus, in 
general, as I have said, a transfer of property is morally 
wrong, where the consent of the owner is obtained by means 
of a vicious act on the part of the receiver. 
The right of property may be violated, — 

1. By taking property without the knowledge of the 
owner, or tlieft. It is here to be remembered, that the con- 
sent of the owner is necessary to any transfer of property. 
We do not vary the nature of the act by persuading our- 
selves diat the owner will not care about it, or that he 
would have no objection, or that he will not know it, or that 
it will never injure him to lose it. All this may or may not 
be ; but none of it varies the moral character of the transac- 
tion. The simple question is. Has the owner consented to 
the transfer 1 If he have not, so long as this circumstance, 
essential to a righteous transfer, is wanting, whatever other 
circumstances exist, it matters not, — the taking of another's 
property is theft. 

2. By taking the property of another, by consent vio' 
lently obtained. 

Such is the case in highway robbery. Here, we wick- 
edly obtain control over a man's life, and then offer him 
the alternative of death, or delivery of his property. Inas- 
much as the consent is no more voluntary than if we tied 
bis hands, and took the money out of his pocket, the viola- 
tion of property is as great. And, besides this, we assume 
the power of life and death over an individual, over whom 
we have no just right whatever. In this case, in fact, we 
assume the unlimited control over the life and possessions 
of another, and, on pain of death, oblige him to suiTcnder 
his property to our will. As, in diis case, there is a double 



238 MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY 

and aggravated violation of right, it is, m all countries, con- 
sidered deserving of condign punishment, and is generally 
rendered a capital offence. 

3. By consent frmididejiily obtained, or cheating. 

This may be of two kinds : 

1. Where no equivalent is offered, as when a beggar 
obtains money on false pretences. 

2. Where the equivalent is different from tvhat it pur- 
forts to he ; or where the consent is obtained by an im- 
moral act on the part of him who obtams it. As this in- 
cludes by far the greatest number of violations of the law 
of property, it will occupy the remainder of this section, 
and will require to be treated of somewhat at length. 

We shall divide it into two parts : — 1. Where the equiv- 
alent is material; 2. Where the equivalent is immaterial, 

I. Where the equivalent is material. This is of 
two kinds: — 1. Where the transfer is perpetual ; 2. Where 
the transfer is temporary. 

First. Where the transfer of property on both sides is 
perpetual. This includes the law of buyer and seller. 

The principal laws of buyer and seller will be seen from 
a consideration of the relation in which they stand to each 
other. The seller, or merchant, is supposed to devote his 
time and capital to the business of supplying his neighbors 
with articles of use. For his time, risk, interest of money, 
and skill, he is entitled to an advance on his goods ; and 
the buyer is under a correspondent obligation to allow that 
advance, except in the case of a change in the market 
price, to be noticed subsequently. 

Hence, 1. The seller is under obligation to furnish goods 
of the same quality as that ordinarily furnished at the same 
prices. He is paid for his skill in purchasing, and of course 
he ought to possess that skill, or to suffer the consequences. 
If he furnish goods of this quality, and they are, so far as 
his knowledge extends, free from any defect, he is under 
obhgation to do nothing more than to offer them. He is 
under no obligations to explain their adaptation, and direct 
the judgment of the buyer, unless by the law of benevo- 
lence. Having furnished goods to the best of his skill, and 
of the ordinar)' quality^ his responsibility ceases, and it is 



MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL. 239 

the business of the buyer to decide whether the article is 
adapted to his wants. If, however, the seller have pur- 
chased a bad article, and have been deceived, he has no 
right to sell it at the regular price, on the ground that he 
gave as much for it as for what should have been good. 
The error of judgment was his, and in his own profession ; 
and he must bear the loss by selling the article for what it 
is worth. That this is the rule, is evident from the con 
trary case. If he had, by superior skill, purchased an 
article at much less than its value, he would consider him- 
self entitled to the advantage, and justly. Where he is 
entitled, however, to the benefit of his skill, he must, under 
correspondent circumstances, suffer from the want of it. 
Hence we say, that a seller is under obligation to furnish 
goods at the market price, and of the mai'ket quality, but is 
under no obligation to assist the judgment of the buyer, 
unless the article for sale is defective, and then he is under 
obligation to reveal it. 

The only exception to this rule is, when, from the con- 
ditions of the sale, it is known that no guaranty is offered ; 
as when a horse is sold at auction, without any recommen- 
dation. Here, every man knows that he buys at his own 
risk, and bids accurdingly. 

2. Ever}' one wJio makes it his business to sell, is not 
only hound to sell, but is also at liberty to sell, at the mar- 
ket price. That he is hound to sell thus.^ is evident firom 
the fact that he takes every means to persuade the public 
that he sells thus ; he would consider it a slander were any 
one to assert the contrary ; and, were the contrary to be 
believed, liis custom would soon be mined. Where a behef 
is so widely circulated, and so earnestly inculcated by the 
seller, he is manifestly under obligation to fulfil an expecta- 
tion which he has been so anxious to create. 

He is also at liberty to sell at the market price ; that is, 
as he is obliged to sell without remuneration, or even with 
loss, if the article fall in price while in his possession, so he 
is at liberty to sell it at above a fair remuneration, if the 
price of the article advances. As he must suffer in case of 
the fall of merchandise, he is entitled to the correspondent 
gain, if merchandise rises ; and tluis his chance on both 



240 MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY 

sides is equalized. Besides, by allowing the price of an 
article to rise with its scarcity, the rise itself is in the end 
checked ; since, by attracting an unusual amount of prod- 
ucts to the place of scarcity, the price is speedily reduced 
again to the ordinary and natural equilibrium of supply and 
demand. 

It should, however, be remarked, that this rule applies 
mainly to those, whose occupation it is to traffic in the 
article bought and sold. A dealer in china-ware is bound 
to sell china-ware at the market price ; but if a man insist 
upon buying his coat, he is under no such obligation, for 
this is not his business. Should he put himself to inconve- 
nience by selling his apparel to gratify the whim of his 
neighbor, he may, if he will, charge an extra price for this 
inconvenience. The rule applies in any other similar case. 
It would, however, become an honest man fairly to state 
that he did not sell at the market price, but that he charged 
what he chose, as a remuneration for his trouble. 

3. While the seller is under no obligation to set forth 
the quality of his merchandise, yet he is at liberty to do 
so, confining himself to truth. He has, however, no right 
to influence the will of the buyer, by any motives aside from 
those derived from the real value of the article in question. 

Thus, he has no right to appeal to the fears, or hopes, 
or avarice, of the buyer. This rule is violated, when, in 
dealings on the exchange, false information is circulated, 
for the purpose of raising or depressing the price of stocks. 
It is violated by speculators, who monopolize an article to 
create an artificial scarcity, and thus raise the price, while 
the supply is abundant. The case is the same, when a 
salesman looks upon a stranger who enters his store, and 
deliberately calculates how he shall best influence, and 
excite, and mislead his mind, so as to sell the greatest 
amount of goods at the most exorbitant profit. And, in 
general, any attempt to influence the mind of the purchaser, 
by motives aside from those derived from the true character 
of the article for sale, are always doubtful, and generally 
vicious. 

It is in vain to reply to this, that if this w^ere not done, 
men could not support their families. We are not inquir 



MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL. 24 J 

mg about tlie support of families, but about a question of 
right. And it is obvious that, were this plea allowed, it 
would put an end to all questions of morals ; for there 
never was an iniquity so infamous as not to find multitudes 
who were ready to justify it on this plea. But we alto- 
gether deny the validity of the plea. Were men to qualify 
themselves properly for their business, and to acquire and 
exert a suitable skill in the management of it, that skill 
being beneficially exerted for the community at large, men 
would find it for their interest to employ it. He who un- 
derstood his ov/n profession well, and industriously and 
honestly put his talents into requisition, never stood in need 
of chicanery, in order to support either himself or his family. 

These remarks have been made with respect to the 
seller. But it is manifest that they are just as applicable 
to the buyer. Both parties are under equally imperative 
and correspondent obligations. If the seller be bound to 
furnish an article of ordinary quality, and to sell it at the 
market price, that is, if he be obliged to exert his skill for 
the benefit of the buyer, and to charge for that skill and 
capital no more than a fair remuneration, then the buyer is 
under the same obligation freely and willingly to pay that 
remuneration. It is disgraceful to him, to wish the seller to 
labor for him for nothing, or for less than a fair compensa- 
tion. If the seller has no right by extraneous considerations 
to influence the motives of the buyer, the buyer has no 
right, by any such considerations, to influence the motives 
of the seller. The buyer is guilty of firaud, if he underrate 
the seller's goods, or by any of the artifices of traffic in- 
duces him to sell at less than a fair rate of profit. " 'Tis 
naught, 'tis naught, saith the buyer ; but when he goeth h' 
way, then he boasteth." Such conduct is as dishonest and 
dishonorable now, as it was in the days of Solomon. 

It has also been observed above, that when the seller 

knows of any defect in his product, he is bound to declare 

it. The same rule, of course, applies to the buyer. If he 

know that the value of the article has risen, without the 

possibility of the owner's knowledge, he is bound to inform 

him of this change in its value. The sale is, otherwise, 

fraudulent. Hence, all purchases and sales affected m 
oi 



242 MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY 

consequence of secret information, procured in advance of 
our neighbor, are dishonest. If property rise in value by 
the providence of God, while in my neighbor's possession, 
that rise of value is as much his, as the property itself; and 
I may as honestly deprive him of the one, without an 
equivalent, as of the other. 

The ordinary pleaSj by which men excuse themselves for 
violation of the moral law of property, are weak and wicked. 
Thus, when men sell articles of a different quality from 
that which their name imports — as when wines or liquors 
are diluted or compounded ; when the ordinary weight or 
measure is curtailed ; or where employers defraud ignorant 
persons of their wages, as I am told is sometimes the case 
with those who employ certain classes of laborers — it is 
common to hear it remarked, "The competition is so great, 
that we could sell nothing, unless we adopted these methods :" 
or else, " The practice is universal, and if we did not do 
thus, other persons would, and so the evil would not be 
diminished." To all this, it is sufficient to reply : The 
law of God is explicit on this subject. " Thou shalt love 
thy neighbor as thyself;" and God allows of no excuses for 
the violation of his commands ; " He hath shewed it unto 
them; therefore they are without excuse." These pleas 
are either true or false. If false, they ought to be aban- 
doned. If true, then the traffic itself must be given up ; for 
no man has any right to be engaged in any pursuit, in vio- 
lation of the laws of God. 

A bargain is concluded, when both parties have signified 
to each other, their will to make the transfer ; that is, that 
each chooses to part with his own property, and to receive 
the property of the other in exchange. Henceforth, all the 
risk of loss, and all the chances of gain, are, of course, 
mutually transferred ; although the articles themselves 
remain precisely as they were before. If a merchant buy 
a cargo of tea ; after the sale, no matter where the tea is, 
the chances of loss or gain are his, and they are as much 
his in one place as in another. 

So, if the article, after the sale, have become injured, 
before I take actual possession of it, I bear the loss ; be- 
cause, the right of ownership being vested in me, I could 



MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL. 243 

have removed it if 1 chose, and no one had a right, without 
my direction, to remove it. 

The only exception to this, exists in the case where, by 
custom or contract, the obUgation to dehver, is one of the 
conditions of the sale. Here the seller, of course, charges 
more for assuming the responsibility to deliver, and he is to 
bear the risk, for which he is fairly paid. It is frequently 
a question, When is the act of delivery completed ? This 
must be settled by precedent ; and can rarely be known in 
any country, until a decision is had in the courts of law. 
As soon as such a case is adjudicated, the respective 
parties govern themselves accordingly. 

Secondly, ivhen the transfer of property is temporary. 
In this case, the bon'ower pays a stipulated equivalent for 
the use of it. 

That he should do so is manifestly just, because the 
property in the hands of the owner is capable of producing 
an increase, and the owner, if he held it, would derive the 
benefit of that increase. If he part with this benefit for 
the advantage of another, it is just that the other should 
allow him a fair remuneration. If the borrower could not, 
after paying this remuneration, grow richer than he would 
be without the use of his neighbor's capital, he would not 
borrow. But, inasmuch as he, by the use of it, can be 
benefited, after paying for the use, no reason can be con- 
ceived why he should not pay for it. 

The remuneration paid for the use of capital, in the form 
of money, is called interest ; when in the form of land or 
houses, it is called re?it. 

The principles on which the rate of this remuneration is 
justly fixed, are these: The borrower pays, first, for the 
use : and, secondly, for the risk. 

1. For the use. 

Capital is more useful, that is, it is capable of producing 
a greater remuneration at some times than at others. 
Thus, a flour-mill, in some seasons, is more productive than 
in others. Land, in some places, is capable of yielding a 
greater harvest than in others. And thus, at different times, 
the same property may be capable of bringing in a very 
diflferent income. And, in general, where the amount of 



244 MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY 

capital to be loaned is great, and the number of those who 
want to borrow, small, the interest will be low ; and where 
the number of borrowers is great, and the amount of capi- 
tal small, the rate of interest will be high. The reasons 
of all this are too obvious to need illustration. 

2. For the risk. 

When an owner parts with his property, it is put under 
the control of the borrower, and passes, of course, beyond 
the control of the owner. Here, there arises a risk over 
which he has no control. It varies with the character of 
the borrower for prudence and skill, and with the kind of 
business in which he is engaged- Property in ships is 
exposed to greater risk than property in land. A man 
would consider the chance of having his property returned 
much better, if employed in the building of dwelling-houses, 
than in the manufacture of gun-powder. Now, as all these 
circumstances of risk may enter more or less into every loan, 
It is evident that they must, in justice, vary the rate at 
which a loan may be procured. 

Hence, I think that the rate of interest, of every sort, 
being liable to so many circumstances of variation, should 
not, in any case, be fixed by law ; but should be left, in 
all cases, to the discretion of the parties concerned. 

This remark applies as well to loans of money as to loans 
of other property, because the reasons apply just as much 
to these as to any other. If it be said, men may charge 
exorbitant interest, I reply, so they may charge exorbitant 
rent for houses, and exorbitant hire for horses. And, I 
ask, how is this evil of exorbitant charges in other cases 
remedied ? The answer is plain. We allow a perfectly 
free competition, and then the man who will not loan his 
property, unless at an exorbitant price, is underbidden, 
and his own rapacity defeats and punishes itself. 

And, on the contrary, by fixing a legal rate of interest, 
we throw the whole community into the power of those 
who are willing to violate the law. For, as soon as the 
actual value of money is more than the legal value, those 
who consider themselves under obligation to obey the laws 
ol the land, will not loan ; for they can employ their 
property to better advantage. Hence, if all were obedient 



MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL. 245 

to the law, as soon as property anived at this point ol 
value, loans would instantly and universally cease. But 
as some persons are willing to evade the law, they will loan 
at illegal interest ; and, as the capital of those who are 
conscientious, is withdrawn from the market, a-id an arti- 
ficial scarcity is thus produced, those who are not conscien- 
tious have it ni their power to charge whatever they choose. 

Again, when we pay for money loaned, we pay, fii*st, for 
(lie use, and, second, for the risk ; that is, we pay literally 
a premium of insurance. As hoth of these vary with dif- 
ference of time, and with different individuals, there is a 
double reason for variation in the rate of interest. When 
we have a house insured, we pay only for the risk ; and, 
hence, there is here only a single cause of variation. But 
while all governments have fixed the rate o{ interest by law, 
they have never fixed the rate of insurance ; which, being 
less variable, is more properly subject to a fixed rule. 
This is surely inconsistent ; is it not also unjust ? 

Nevertheless, for the sake of avoiding disputes, and errors 
of ignorance, it might be wise for society to enact, by law, 
what shall be the rate of interest, in cases where no rate is 
othenvise specified. This is the extent of its proper juris- 
diction ; and domg any thing further is, I think, not only 
injurious to the interests of the community, but also a vio- 
lation of the right of property. While, however, I hold 
lliis to be true, 1 by no means hold that, the laws remain- 
ing as they are, any individual is justified in taldng or giving 
more than the legal rate of interest. When conscience 
does not forbid, it is the business of a good citizen to obey 
the laws ; and the faithful obedience to an unwise law, is 
generally the surest way of working its overthrow. 

We shall now proceed to consider the laws which gov- 
ern this mode of transfer of property. 

The loan of money. 

1. The lender is bound to demand no more than a fair 
remuneration for the use of his capital, and for the risk to 
which it is exposed. 

2. He is bound to make use of no unlawful means to 
mfluence the decision of the borrower. The principles 
here are the same as those which should govern the per^ 

21 * 



246 MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY 

manent exchange of property. All rumors and false alarmFs, 
and all combinations of capitalists to raisr by a monopoly 
the price of money, are manifestly dishonest ; nor are they 
the less so, because many persons may enter into them, or 
because they have the skill or the power to evade the laws 
of the land. 

3. The borrower is bound to pay a just equivalent, as 
I have stated above ; and he is equally forbidden to use 
any dishonest motives to influence the decision of the 
lender. 

4. Inasmuch as the risk of the property is one part of 
the consideration for which the owner receives remunera 
tion, and as this is in every case supposed to be a specified 
quantity, the borrower has no right to expose the property 
of another to any risk not contemplated in the con ti act. 
Hence, he has no right to invest it in a more hazardous 
trade, or to employ it in a more hazardous speculation, 
than that for which he borrowed it ; and if he do, he is 
using it in a manner for which he has paid no equivalent. 
He is also under obligation to take all the care to avoid 
losses which he would take if the property were his own ; 
and to use the same skill to conduct his affairs successfully. 

5. He is also bound to repay the loan exactly according 
to the terms specified in the contract. This requires that he 
pay the full sum promised, and that he pay it precisely at 
the time promised. A failure, in either case, is a breach 
of the contract. 

The question is often asked, whether a debtor is morally 
liberated by an act of insolvency. 1 think not, if he ever 
aftei-wards have the means of repayment. It may be said, 
this is oppressive to debtors ; but, we ask, is not the con- 
trary principle oppressive to creditors ; and are not the 
rights of one party just as valuable, and just as much 
rights, as those of the other? It may also be remarked, 
that, were this principle acted upon, there would be fewer 
debtors, and vastly fewer insolvents. The amount of 
money actually lost by insolvency, is absolutely enormous ; 
and it is generally lost by causeless, reckless speculation, 
by childish and inexcusable extravagance, or by gambling 
aiid profligacy, which are all stimulated into activity by 



MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL. 247 

the facility of credit, and the facihty with which debts 
may be cancelled by acts of insolvency. The more rigidly 
contracts are observed, the more rapidly will the capital of 
a country increase, tlie greater will be the inducements to 
industiy, and the stronger will be the barriers against ex- 
travagance and vice. 

Of the loan of other property. 

The principles which apply in this case are very similar 
to those which have been already stated. 

1. The lender is bound to furnish an article, which, so 
far as he knows, is adapted to the purposes of the bor- 
rower. That is, if the thing bon*owed has any internal 
defect, he is bound to reveal it. If I loan a horse to a 
man who wishes to ride forty miles to-day, which I know 
is able to go but thirty, it is a fraud. If I let to a man a 
house which I know to be in tlie neighborhood of a nui- 
sance, or to be, in part, uninhabitable from smoky chim- 
neys, and do not inforni him, it is fraud. The loss in the 
value of the property is mine, and I have no right to trans- 
fer it to another. 

2. So the lender has a right to charge the market price 
arising from the considerations of use, risk, and variation 
in supply and demand. This depends upon the same 
principles as those already explained. 

3. The borrower is bound to take the same care of the 
property of another, as he would of his own ; to put it to 
/lo risk different fi'om that specified or understood in the 
contract ; and to pay the price, upon the principle stated 
above. Neither party has any right to influence the other 
by any motives extraneous to the simple business of the 
transfer. 

4. The borrower is bound to return the property loaned, 
precisely according to the contract. This includes both 
time and condition. He must return it at the time speci- 
fied, and in the condition in which he received it, ordinary 
wear and tear only excepted. If I hire a house for a year, 
and so damage its paper and paint, that, before it can be 
let again, it will cost half the price of the rent to put it in 
repair, it is a gross fraud. I have, by negligence, or other 
cause, defrauded the owner of half his rent. It is just as 



248 MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY 

unmoral as to pay him the whole, and then pick his pocket 
ol' the half of what he had received. 

The important question arises here, If a loss happen 
wliile the property is in the hands of the borrower, on 
whom shall it fall ? The principle I suppose to be this : 

1. If it happen while the property is subject to the use 
specified in the contract, the owner bears it ; because it is 
to be supposed that he foresaw the risk, and received re- 
muneration for it. As he was paid for the risk, he, of 
course, has assumed it, and justly suffers it, 

2. If the loss happen in consequence of any use not 
contemplated in the contract, then the borrower suffers it. 
He having paid nothing for insurance against this risk, 
there is nobody but himself to sustain it, and he sustains it 
accordingly. Besides, were any other principle adopted, it 
must put an end to the whole business of loaning ; for no 
one would part with his property temporarily, to be used 
in any manner the borrower pleased, and be himself re- 
sponsible for all the loss. If a horse die while I am using 
U well, and for the purpose specified, the owner suffers. 
If it die by careless driving, I suffer the loss. He is bound 
to furnish a gdod horse, and I a competent driver. 

3. So, on the contrary, if a gain arise unexpectedly. 
If this gain was one which was contemplated in the con- 
tract, it belongs to the borrower. If not, he has no equi- 
table claim to it. If I hire a farm, I am entitled, without 
any additional charge for rent, to all the advantages arising 
from the rise in the price of wheat, or from my own skill 
in agriculture. But if a mine of coal be discovered on the 
farm, I have no right to the benefit of working it ; for I 
did not hire the farm for this purpose. 

The case of insurance. 

Here no transfer of property is made, and, of course, 
nothing is paid for use. But the owner chooses to transfer 
the risk of use, from himself to others, and to pay, for their 
assuming this risk, a stipulated equivalent. The loss to 
society, of property insured, is just the same as when it is 
uninsured. A town is just as much poorer when property 
is destroyed that is insured, provided it be insured in the 
town, as though no insurance were effected. The only 



MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL. 249 

difference is, that the loss is equalized. Ten men can 
more easily replace one hundred doUai^s apiece, who have 
nine hundred remaining, than the eleventh can replace his 
whole property of one thousand. 

The rule in this case is simple. The insured is bound 
fully to reveal to the insurer every circumstance within his 
knowledge, which could in any measure affect the value of 
the risk ; that is to say, the property must be, so hr as 
he knows, what it purports to be, and the risks none other 
than such as he reveals them. If he expose the property 
to other risks, the insurance is void ; and the underwriter, 
if the property be lost, refuses to remunerate him ; and if 
it be safe, he returns the premium. If the loss occur with- 
in the terms of the policy, the insurer is bound fully and 
faithfully to make remuneration, precisely according to the 
ternis of the contract. 

As to the rate of insurance, very little need be said. It 
varies with every risk, and is made up of so many conflict- 
ing circumstances, that it must be agreed upon by the par- 
ties themselves. When the market in this species of traffic 
is unrestrained by monopolies, the price of insurance, lilve 
that of any other commodity, will regulate its'elf. 

II. Next, where the equivalent is immaterial, as where 
one party pays remuneration for some service rendered by 
the other. 

The principal cases here are these : That of master and 
servant, and that of principal and agent. 

1. Of master and servant. 

1 . The master is bound to allow to the servant a fair re- 
muneration. This is justly estimated by uniting the con- 
siderations of labor, skill, and fidelity, varied by the rise and 
fall of the price of such labor in the market. As this, how- 
ever, would be liable to inconvenient fluctuation, it is gen- 
erally adjusted by a rate agreed upon by the parties. 

2. He is bound to allow him all the privileges to which 
moral law or established usage entides him, unless somediing 
different fi'om the latter has been stipulated in the contract ; 
and he is at liberty to require of him service upon the same 
principles. 

3. The servant is bound to perform the labor assigned 



250 MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY 

Jiim by usage, or by contract (matters of conscience only 
excepted), with all the skill which he possesses, making the 
interests of the employer his own. If either party fail, — 
that is, if the master demand service for which he does not 
render compensation, or if the servant receive wages for 
which he does not render the stipulated equivalent, — there 
is a violation of the right of property. Thus, also, there is 
a violation of right, if the master do not fulfil the terms of 
the contract, just as it was made ; as, for instance, if he do 
not pay a servant punctually. When the service is perform- 
ed, the wages belong to the servant, and the master has no 
more right to them than to the property of any one else. 
Thus saith St. James : " The hire of your laborers that have 
reaped your fields, that is l{:ept hack by fraud, crieth, and 
the cry is come into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth." 
And, on the contrary, the servant is bound to use his whole 
<:kill and economy in managing the property of his master ; 
and if he destroy it by negligence, or fault, he ought to 
make restitution. 

2. 0{ principal and agent. 

It frequently happens that, in the transaction of business, 
duties devolve upon an individual, which are to be dis- 
charged in different places at the same time. In other 
cases, in consequence of the subdivision of labor, he requires 
something to be done for him, which another person can do 
better than himself In both cases, either from necessity, 
or for his own convenience and interest, he employs othei 
men as agents. 

Agencies are of two kinds ; first, where the principal 
simply employs another to fulfil his own (that is, the prin- 
cipal's) will Here, the principal's will is the mle, both as 
to the object to be accomplished, and the manner in which, 
and the means whereby, it is to be accomplished. Sec- 
ondly. Where the principal only designates the objects to 
be accomplished, reposing special trust in the skill and 
fidelity of the agent as to the means by which it is to be 
accomplished. Such I suppose to be the case in regard to 
professional assistance. 

The laws on this subject respect, first, the relation ex- 
isting between the principal and the community ; ana. 



MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL. 251 

secondly, the relation existing between the principal and 
agent. 

I. The principal is bound by the acts of the agent, while 
the agent is employed in the business for which the prin- 
cipal has engaged him ; but he is responsible no farther. 

Thus, it is known that a merchant employs a clerk - to 
receive money on his account. For his clerk's transactions 
in this part of his affairs he is responsible ; but he would not 
be responsible, if money were paid to his porter or coach- 
man, because he does not employ them for this purpose. 
Hence, if the clerk be unfaithfol, and secrete the money, 
the merchant suffers ; if the coachman receive the money , 
and be unfaithful, the payer suffers. It is the merchant's 
business to employ suitable agents ; but it is the business 
of his customers to apply to those agents only, whom he 
has employed. 

An important question arises here, namely. When is it to 
be understood that a principal has employed an agent ? It 
is generally held that, if the principal acknowledge himself 
responsible for the acts of the agent, he is hereafter held to 
be responsible for similar acts, until lae gives notice to the 
contrary. 

II. Laws arising from the relation subsisting between the 
principal and the agent. 

1. The laws respecting compensation are the same as 
those already specified, and, therefore, need not be repeated. 

2. The agent is bound to give the same care to the 
affairs of the principal, as to his own. He is another self, 
and should act in that capacity. The necessity of this lule 
is apparent fi'om the fact, that no other rule could be de- 
vised, either by which the one party would know what 
justly to demand, or the other when the demands of justice 
were fulfilled. 

Hence, if an agent do not give all the care to the affairs 
of his principal that he would do to his own, and loss occur, 
he ought to sustain it. If a lawyer lose a cause through 
negligence, or palpable ignorance, he ought, in justice, to 
suffer the consequences. He receives fees for conducting 
the cause to the best of his ability, and, by undertaking to 
conduct it, puts it out of the power of the client to employ 



253 MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY 

\ 

any one else. Thus, if he neglect it, and, by neglecting it, 
liis client is worse off than if he had not undertaken it, he 
accepts fees for really injuring his neighbor. He ought to 
bear the loss which has occurred by his own fault. 

A question frequently arises here of considerable impor- 
tance. It is, When is he obliged to obey the instructions 
of his principal ; and when is he obliged to act without - 
regard to them? Although this question does not come 
under the right of property, it may be as well to notice it 
here as any where else. 

The question, I suppose, is to be answered b}^ deciding 
to which of the above specified kinds of agencies the case 
to be considered belongs. 

1. If it be simple agency, that is, where the agent un- 
dertakes merely to execute the will of the principal, and in 
the manner, and by the means, specified by the principal, 
ne must obey implicitly, (conscience only excepted,) unless 
some fact material to the formation of a judgment has come 
to light after giving the order, which, if known, would have 
necessarily modified the intention of the principal. This is 
the law of the mihtary service. Here, even when the 
reason for disobedience of orders is ever so clear, and an 
agent disobeys, he does it at his own risk ; and, hence, the 
modifying facts should be obvious and explicit, in order to 
justify a variation from the instructions. 

2. When the agency is of the other kind, and the will 
of the principal is only supposed to direct the end, while 
the means and manner are to be decided upon by the pro- 
fessional skill of the agent, I suppose that the agent is not 
bound to obey the directions of his principal. He is sup- 
posed to know more on the subject, and to be better able 
to decide what will benefit his principal, than the principal 
himself; and he has no right to injure another man, even 
ir the other man desire it ; nor has he a right to lend him- 
self as an instrument by which another man, by conse- 
quence of his ignorance, shall injure himself. Besides, 
every man has a professional reputation to sustain, on 
which his means of living depend. He has no right to 
injure this, for the sake of gratifying another, especially 
when, by so gratifying the other, he shall ruin himself also. 



MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL. 253 

A physician has no right to give his patient drugs which 
will poison him, because a patient wishes it. A lawyer has 
no right to bring a cause into court in such a manner as 
will ensure the loss of It, because his client insists upon it. 
The professional agent is bound to conduct the business of 
his profession to the best of his ability. This is the end of 
his responsibility. If it please his client, well ; if not, the 
relation must cease, and the principal must find another 
agent. 

A representative in Congress is manifestly an agent of 
the latter of these two classes. He is chosen on account 
of his supposed legislative ability. Hence, he is strictly a 
professional agent ; and, on these principles, he is under no 
sort of obligation to re(]^ard the Instmctions of his constitu- 
ents. He Is merely bound to promote their best interests, 
but the manner of doing it Is to be decided by his superior 
skill and ability. 

But, secondly, is he bound to resign his seat, if he differ 
fix)m them in opinion ? This is a question to be decided 
by the constitution of the country under which he acts. 
Society, that is, the whole nation, have a right to form a 
government as they will ; and to choose representatives 
during good behavior^ that is, for as long a time as they 
and their representatives entertain the same views ; or, set- 
ting aside this mode for reasons which may seem good to 
themselves, to elect them for a certain period of service. 
Now, if they have chosen the latter mode, they have bound 
themselv^es to abide by it, and have abandoned the former. 
If they elect him during pleasure, he is so elected. If they, 
on the contrary, elect him for two years, or for six years, 
he is so elected. And, so far as I can discover, here the 
question rests. It is In the power of society to alter the 
tenure of office. If they please ; but, until it be altered, 
neither party can claim any thing more or different from 
what that tenure actually and virtually expresses. 



22 



254 RIGHT OF PROPERTY AS VIOLATED BY SOCIETY. 

SECTION III. 

THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY AS VIOLATED BY SOCIETY. 

I have already stated that, whatever a man possesses, he 
possesses exclusively of every man, and of all men. He 
has a right to use his property in such a manner as will 
promote his own happiness, provided he do not interfere 
with the rights of others. But with this right, society may 
interfere, as well as individuals ; and the injury is here the 
greater, inasmuch as it is remediless. In this world the 
individual knows of no power superior to society, and from 
its decisions, even when unjust, he has no appeal. A few 
suggestions on this part of the subject, will close the present 
chapter. 

I have mentioned that the individual has a right to use 
his property, innocently, as he will, exclusively of any man, 
or of all men. It is proper to state here, that this right is 
apparently modified by his becoming a member of society. 
When men form a civil society, they mutually agree to con- 
fer upon the individual certain benefits upon certain con- 
ditions. But as these benefits cannot be attained without 
incurring some expenses, as, for instance, those of courts of 
justice, legislation, he, it is just that every individual who 
enters the society, and thus enjoys these benefits, should pay 
his portion of the expense. By the very act of becoming a 
member of society, he renders himself answerable for his 
portion of that burden, without the incurring of which, society 
could not exist. He has his option, to leave society, or to 
join it. But if he join it, he must join it on the same con- 
ditions as others. He demands the benefit of laws, and of 
])rotection ; but he has no right to demand what other men 
have purchased, unless he v/ill pay for it an equitable price. 

From these principles, it will follow, that society has a 
natural right to require every individual* to contribute his 
portion of those expenses necessary to the existence of 
society. 

Besides these, however, the membei-s of a society have 



RIGHT OF PROPERTY AS VIOLATED BY SOCIETY. 255 

the power to agree together to contribute for objects which, 
if not essential to the existence, are yet important to the 
well-being of society. If they so agree, they are bound to 
fulfil this agreement ; for a contract between the individual 
and society, is as binding as one between individual and 
individual. Hence, if such an agreement be made, society 
has a right to enforce it. This, however, by no means 
decides the question of the original wisdom of any particular 
compact ; much less is it meant to be asserted, that the 
individual is bound by the acts of a majority, when that 
majority has exceeded its power. These subjects belong 
to a subsequent chapter. What is meant to be asserted 
here, is, that there may arise cases in which society may 
rightfully oblige the individual to contribute for purposes 
which are not absolutely necessary to the existence of 
society. 

The difference, which we wish to establish, is this : In 
the case of whatever is necessary to the existence of society, 
society has a natural right to oblige the individual to bear 
his part of the burden ; that is, it has a right over his 
property to this amount, without obtaining any concession 
on his part. Society has, manifestly, a right to whatever is 
necessary to its own existence. 

Whatever, on the other hand, is not necessary to the 
existence of society, is not in the power of society, unless 
it has been conferred upon it by the will of the individual. 
That this is the rule, is evident from the necessity of the 
case. No other rule could be devised, which would not 
put the property of the individual wholly in the power of 
society ; or, in other words, absolutely destroy the liberty 
of the individual. 

If such be the facts, it will follow that society has a right 
over the property of the individual, for all purposes necessa- 
ry to the existence of society ; and, secondly, in all respects 
in which the individual has conferred that power, but only 
for the purposes for which it was conferred. 

And hence, 1. It is the duty of the individual to hold his 
property always subject to these conditions ; and, for such 
purposes, freely to contribute his portion of that expense 
for which he, in common with others, is receiving an 



256 RIGHT OF PROPERTY AS VIOLATED BY SOCIETY. 

equii^alent. No one has any more right than another to 
receive a consideration without making a remuneration. 

2. The individual has a right to demand that no imposi- 
tions be laid upon him, unless they come under the one or 
the other of these classes. 

3. He has a right to demand, that the burdens of society 
be laid upon individuals according to some equitable law. 
This law should be founded, as nearly as possible, upon 
the principle, that each one should pay, in proportion to 
the benefits which he receives fi-om the protection of 
society. As these benefits are either personal or pecuniary, 
and as those which are personal are equal, it would seem 
just that the variation should be in proportion to property. 

If these principles be just, it is evident that society may 
violate the right of individual property, in the following 
ways: 

1. By taking, through the means of government, which 
is its agent, the property of the individual, arbitrarily, or 
merely by the will of the executive. Such is the nature of 
the exactions in despotic governments. 

2. When, by arbitrary will, or by law, it takes the 
property of the individual for purposes, which, whether 
good or bad, are not necessary to the existence of society, 
when the individuals of society have not consented that it 
be so appropriated. This consent is never to be presumed, 
except in the case of necessary expenditures, as has been 
shown. Whenever this plea cannot be made good, society 
has no right to touch the property of the individual, unless 
it can show the constitutional provision. Were our govern- 
ment to levy a tax to build churches, it would avail nothing 
to say, that churches were wanted, or that the good of 
society demanded it ; it would be an invasion of the right of 
property, until the article in the constitution could be shown, 
granting to the government power over property, for this 
yery purpose. 

3. Society, even when the claim is just, may violate the 
rights of the individual, by adopting an inequitable rule in 
the distribution of the public burdens. Every individual 
has an equal right to employ his property unmolested, in 
'ust such mannei as will innocently promote his own hap- 



iUGHT OF PKOPERT7 AS VIOLATED B\ SOCIETY. 257 

piness. That is, it is to society a matter of indifference m 
what way he employs it. Provided it be innocent, it does 
not come within the view of society. Hence, in this 
respect, all modes of employing it are equal. And the 
only question to be considered, in adjusting the appropria- 
tion, is, How much does he ask society to protect ? and by 
this rule it should, as we have said before, be adjusted. If, 
then, besides this rule, another be adopted ; and an indi- 
vidual be obliged, besides his pro rata proportion, to bear a 
burden lexded on his particular calling, to the exemption of 
another, he has a right to complain. He is obliged to bear 
a double burden, and one portion of the burden is laid for 
a cause over which society professes itself to have no juris- 
diction. 

4. Inasmuch as the value of property depends upon the 
unrestrained use which I am allowed to make of it, for the 
promotion of my individual happiness, society interferes 
with the right of property, if it in any manner abridge any 
of these. One man is rendered happy by accumulation, 
another by benevolence ; one by promoting science, 
another by promoting religion. Each one has a right to 
use what is his own, exactly as he pleases. And if society 
interfere, by directing the manner in which he shall appro 
priate it, it is an act of injustice. It is as great a violation 
of property, for instance, to interfere with the purpose ot 
the individual in the appropriation of his property for reli- 
gious purposes, as it is to enact that a farmer shall keep but 
diree cows, or a manufacturer employ but ten workmen 



22* 



258 



CHAPTER THIRD. 

JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS CHARACTER. 

Character is the present intellectual, social, and moral 
condition of an individual. ' It comprehends hiy actual 
acquisitions, his capacities, his habits, his tendencies, his 
moral feelings, and every thing which enters into a man's 
state for the present, or his powers for attaining to a better 
state in the future. 

That character, in this sense, is by far the most impor- 
tant of all the possessions which a man can call his own, is 
too evident, to need discussion. It is the source of all that 
he either suffers or enjoys here, and of all that he either 
fears or hopes for hereafter. 

If such be the fact, benevolence would teach us the 
obligation to do all in our power to improve the character 
of our neighbor. This is its chief office. This is the great 
practical aim of Christianity. Reciprocity merely prohibits 
the infliction of any injury upon the character of another. 

The reasons of this prohibition are obvious. No man 
can injure his own character, without violating the laws of 
God, and also creating those tendencies which result in 
violation of the laws of man. He who, in any manner, 
becomes voluntarily the cause of this violation, is a partaker, 
— and, not unfrequently, the largest partaker, — in the 
guilt. As he who tempts another to suicide is, in the sight 
of God, guilty of murder, so he who instigates another to 
wickedness, by producing those states of mind which neces- 
sarily lead to it, is, in the sight of God, held responsible, in 
no slight de2;ree, for the result. 

Again, consider the motives which lead men to injure 
the^iharacter of each other. These are either pure malice, 
oi reckless self-gratification. 

First, malice. Some men so far transcend the ordinary 



JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS CHARACTER. 259 

limits of human depravity, as to derive a ti-uly fiend-lik^ 
pleasure from alluring and seducing from the paths of 
virtue the comparatively innocent, and to exult over the 
moral desolations which they have thus accomplished. 
" They will compass sea and land to make one proselyte, 
and when he is made, they make him tenfold more the 
child of hell than themselves." It is scai'cely necessary to 
add, that language has no terms of moral indignation that 
are capable of branding, with adequate infamy, conduct so 
intensely \icious. It is wickedness, without excuse, and 
without palliation. Or, secondly, take the more favorable 
case. One man wishes to accomplish some purpose of 
self-gratification, to indulge his passions, to increase his 
power, or to feed his vanity ; and, he proceeds to accom- 
plish that purpose, by means of rendering another immortal 
and accountable moral creature degraded for ever, — a 
moral pest henceforth, on earth, and both condemned, and 
the cause of condemnation to others, throughout eternity. 
Who has given this wretch a right to work so awfiil a ruin 
aQiong God's creatures, for the gratification of a momentary 
and an unholy desire? And will not the Judge of all, 
when he maketh inquisition for blood, press to the lips of 
such a sinner the bitterest dregs of the cup of trembling ? 

With this, all the teaching of the sacred Scriptures is 
consonant. The most solemn maledictions in the Holy 
Scriptures are uttered against those who have been the in- 
struments of corrupting othei's. In the Old Testament, 
Jeroboam is signahzed as a sinner of unparalleled atrocity, 
because he made Israel to sin. In the New Testament, 
the judgment of the Phaiisees has been already alluded to. 
And, again, " Whosoever shall break the least of these 
commandments, and shall teach men so, shall be called 
least in the kingdom of heaven." By comparison with 
the preceding verse, the meaning of this passage is seen to 
be, that, as the domg and teaching the commandments of 
God is the great proof of virtue, so the breaking them, and 
the teaching othei-s to break them, is the great proof of 
vice. And, in the Revelation, where God is represented as 
taking signal vengeance upon Babylon, it is because ^^ she 
did corrupt the- earth with her wickedness." 



260 JUSTICE A3 IT RESPECTS CHARACTER. 

The morax precept on this subject, then, is briefly this 
We are forbidden, for any cause, or under any pretence, or 
in any manner, wilhngly to vitiate the character of another 

This prohibition may be violated in two ways : 

1. By weakening the moral restraints of men. 

2. By exciting their evil passions. 

I. By weakening the moral restraints of men. 

It has been already shown, that the passions of men 
were intended to be restrained by conscience ; and that the 
restraining power of conscience is increased by the doc- 
trines and motives derived from natural and revealed reli- 
gion. Whoever, therefore, in any manner, renders obtuse 
the moral sensibilities of others, or diminishes the power 
of that moral truth by which these sensibilities are rendered 
operative, inflicts permanent injury upon the character of 
his fellow-men. This also is done by all wicked example ; 
for, as we have seen before, the sight of wickedness weak- 
ens the power of conscience over us. It is done when, 
either by conversation or by writing, the distinctions be- 
tween right and wrong are treated with open scorn or covert 
contempt ; by all conduct calculated to render inoperative 
the sanctions of religion, as profanity, or Sabbath breaking ; 
by ridicule of the obligations of morality and religion, under 
the names of superstition, priestcraft, prejudices of educa- 
tion ; or, by presenting to men such views of the character 
of God as would lead them to believe that He cares very 
little about the moral actions of his creatures, but is willing 
that every one shall live as he chooses ; and that, therefore, 
the self-denials of virtue are only a form of gratuitous, 
self-inflicted torture. 

It is against this form of moral injury that the young 
need to be specially upon their guard. The moral sedu- 
cer, if he be a practised villain, corrupts the principles of 
his victim before he attempts to influence his or her prac- 
tice. It is not until the moral restraints are silently re- 
moved, and the heart left defenceless, that he presents the 
allurements of vice, and goads the passions to madness 
His task is then easy. If he have succeeded in the first 
effort, he will rarely fail in the second. Let every young 
man, especially every young woman, beware of listening 



JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS CHARACTER. 261 

for a moment to any con vei-sation, of which the object is, 
to show that the restraints of virtue are unnecessary, or to 
diminish, in aught, the reverence and obedience, which are 
due from the creature to the law of the Creator. 

II. We injure the characters of men by exciting to 

ACTION THEIR EVIL DISPOSITIONS. 

1. By viciously stimulating their imaginations. No one 
is coiTupt in action, until he has become corrupt in imagi- 
nation. And, on the other hand, he who has filled his imagi- 
nation with conceptions of vice, and who loves to feast his 
depraved moral appetite with imaginary scenes of impurity, 
needs but the opportunity to become openly abandoned. 
Hence, one of the most nefarious means of corrupting men, 
is to spread before them those images of pollution, by 
which they will, in secret, become familiar with sin. Such 
is the guilt of those who write, or publish, or sell, or lend, 
vicious books, under whatever name or character, and of 
those who engrave, or publish, or sell, or lend, or exhibit, 
obscene or lascivious pictures. Few instances of human 
depravity are marked by deeper atrocity, than that of an 
author, or a publisher, who, from literary vanity, or sordid 
love of gain, pours forth over society a stream of moral 
pollution, either in prose or in poetry. 

And yet, there are not only men who will do this, but, 
what is worse, there are men, yes, and women, too, who, 
if the culprit have possessed talent, will commend it, and 
even weep tears of sympathy over the infatuated genius, 
who was so sorely persecuted by that unfeeling portion of 
the world, who would not consider talent synonymous with 
virtue, and who could not applaud the effort of that abihty 
which was exerted only to multiply the victims of vice. 

2. By ministering to the appetites of others. Such is 
the relation of the power of appetite to that of conscience, 
that, where no positive allurements to vice are set before 
men, conscience will frequently retain its ascendency. 
While, on the other hand, if allurement be added to the 
power of appetite, reason and conscience prove a barrier 
too feeble to resist their combined and vicious tendency 
Hence, he who presents the allurements of vice before 
others, who procures and sets before them the means of 



262 JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS CHARACTER. 

vicious gratification, is, in a great degree, responsible for the 
mischief which he produces. Violations of this law occur 
in most cases of immoral traffic, as in the sale and manu- 
facture of intoxicating liquors, the sale of opium to the 
Chinese, he. Under the same class, is also comprehended 
the case of female prostitution. 

3. By using others to minister to our vicious appetites. 
We cannot use others as ministers to our vices, without ren- 
dering them corrupt, and frequently inflicting an incurable 
wound upon their moral nature. For the sake of a base 
and wicked momentary gratification, the vicious man will- 
ingly ruins for ever an immortal b'eing, who was, but for 
him, innocent ; and, yet more, not unfrequently considers 
this ruin a matter of triumph. Such is the case in seduc- 
tion and adultery, and, in a modified degree, in all manner 
of lewdness and profligacy. 

4. By cherishing the evil passions of men. By pas- 
sion, j^ distinction from appetite, I mean the spiritual in 
opposition to the corporeal desires. It frequently happens, 
that we wish to influence men, who cannot be moved by 
an appeal to their reason or conscience, but who can be 
easily moved by an appeal to their ambition, their avarice, 
their party zeal, their pride, or their vanity. An acquaint- 
ance with these peculiarities of individuals, is frequently 
called, understanding human nature, knowing the weak 
sides of men, and is, by many persons, considered the 
grand means for great and masterly effect. But he can 
have but little practical acquaintance with a conscience 
void of offence, who does not instinctively feel that such 
conduct is unjust, mean and despicable. It is accomplsn 
ing our purposes, by means of the moral degradation ot 
him of whom we profess to be the friends. It is mani- 
festly doing a man a greater injury that simply to rob him. 
If we stole his money, he would be injured only by being 
made poorer. If we procure his services or his money in 
this manner, we also make him poorer; and we besides 
cultivate those evil dispositions, which already expose him 
to sharpers ; and also render him more odious to the God 
before whom he must shortly stand. 

Nor do the ordinary excuses on this subject avail. It may 



JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS CHARACTER. 263 

De said, men would not give to benevolent objects, but 
from these motives. Suppose it true. What if they did 
not ? They would be as well off, morally, as they are now. 
A man is no better, after having refused from avarice, who, 
at length, gives from vanity. His avarice is no better, and 
his vanity is even worse. It may be said, the cause of 
benevolence could not be sustained without it. Then, I 
say, let the cause of benevolence perish. God never meant 
one party of his creatures to be relieved, by our inflicting 
moral injury upon another. If there be no other way of sus- 
taining benevolence, God did not mean that benevolence 
should be sustained. But it is not so. The appeal to men's 
better feelings is the proper appeal to be made to men. It 
will, when properly made, generally succeed ; and if it do 
not, our responsibility is at an end. 

I cannot leave this subject, without urging it upon those 
who are engaged in promoting the objects of benevolent as- 
sociations. It seems to me, that no man has a right to 
present any other than an innocent motive, to urge his 
fellow-men to action. Motives derived from party zeal, 
from personal vanity, from love of applause, however 
covertly insinuated, are not of this character. If a man, by 
exciting such feelings, sold me a horse at twice its value, 
he would be a sharper. If he excite me to give from the 
same motives, the action partakes of the same character. 
The cause of benevolence is holy : it is the cause of God. 
It needs not human chicanery to approve it to the human 
heart. Let him who advocates it, therefore, go forth strong 
in the strength of Him whose cause he advocates. Let him 
rest his cause upon its own merits, and leave every man's 
conscience to decide whether or not he will enlist himself 
in its support. And, besides, were men conscientiously to 
confine themselves to the merits of their cause, they would 
much more carefully weigh their undertakmgs, before they 
attempted to enlist others in support of them. Much of that 
fanaticism, which withers the moral sympathies of man, 
would thus be checked at the outset. 



264 



CHAPTER FOURTH. 

OF JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION. 

It has been already remarked, that every man is, by the 
laws of his Creator, entitled to the physical results of his 
labor ; that is, to those results which arise from the operation 
of those laws of cause and effect, which govern the material 
on which he operates. Thus, if a man form several trees 
into a house, the result of this labor, supposing the materials 
and time to be his own, are his own also. Thus, again, if 
a man study diligently, the amount of knowledge which he 
gains is at his own disposal ; and he is at hberty, innocently, 
to use it as he will. And, in general, if a man be indus- 
trious, the immediate results of industry are his, and no one 
has any right to interfere with them. 

But these are not the only results. There are others, 
springing from those laws of cause and effect, which govern 
the opinions and actions of men towards each other, which 
are frequently of as great importance to the individual, as 
the physical results. Thus, if a man have built a house, 
the house is his. But, if he have done it well, there arises, 
in the minds of men, a certain opinion of his skill, and a 
regard towards him on account of it, which may be of more 
value to him than even the house itself; for it may be the 
foundation of great subsequent good fortune. The indus- 
trious student is entitled, not merely to the use of that 
knowledge which he has acquired, but also to the esteem 
which the possession of that knowledge gives him among 
men. Now, these secondary and indirect results, though 
they may follow other laws of cause and effect, are yet as 
tmly effects of the original cause, that is, of the character 
and actions of the man himself, and they as truly belong to 
him, as the primary and direct results of which we have 
before spoken. And, hence, to diminish the esteem in 



JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION. 265 

which a man is held by his fellows, to detract from the 
reputation which he has thus acquired, is as great a violation 
of justice, nay, it may be a far greater violation of justice, 
than robbing him of money. It has, moreover, the additional 
aggravation of confemng no benefit upon the aggressor, 
beyond that of the gratification of a base and malignant 
passion. 

But, it may be said, the man has a reputation greater 
than he deserves, or a reputation for that which he does 
not deserv^e. Have I not a right to diminish it to its true 
level ? 

We answer, The objection proceeds upon the concession 
that the man has a reputation. That is, men have such or 
such an opinion concerning him. Now, the rule of prop- 
erty, formerly mentioned, applies here. U a man be in 
possession of property, though unjustly in possession, this 
gives to no one a right to seize upon that property for him- 
self, or to seize it and destroy it, unless he can, himself, 
show a better title. The very fact of possession bars every 
other claimant, except that claimant whom the present pos- 
sessor has defrauded. So, in this case, if this reputation injures 
the reputation of another, the other has a right to set forth 
his own claims ; and any one else has a right, when prompt- 
ed by a desire of doing justice to the injured, to state the 
facts as they are ; but where this element of desire to do 
justice does not enter, no man has a right to diminish the 
esteem in which another is held, simply because he may 
believe the other to have more than he deserves. 

The moral rule, on this subject, I suppose to be this : 
We are forbidden to utter any thing which will be injurious 
to the reputation of another, except for adequate cause. I 
say, for adequate cause, because occasions may occur, in 
which it is as much our duty to speak, as it is at other times 
our duty to be silent. The consideration of these cases will 
be a subsequent concern. The precept, thus undei^stood, 
applies to the cases in which we speak either from no suf- 
ficient motive, or from a had motive. It is merely an ex- 
tension of the great principle of the law of reciprocity, which 
commands us to have the same simple desire that every 
other man should enjoy, unmolested, the esteem in which 
23 



266 JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION. 

he is held by men, that we have to enjoy, unmolested, the 
same possession ourselves. 

I do not here consider the cases in which we utter, 
either wilfully or thoughtlessly, injurious /aZ^eAoo^Z respecting 
another. In these cases, the guilt of lying is superadded 
to that of slander. I merely here consider slander by itself; 
it being understood that, when what is asserted is false, it 
involves the sin of lying, besides the violation of the law of 
reciprocity, which we are here endeavoring to enforce. 

The precept includes several specifications. Some of 
them it may be important to enumerate. 

I. It prohibits us firom giving publicity to the bad actions 
of men, without cause. The guilt here consists in cause- 
lessly giving publiuty. Of course, it does not include 
those cases in which the man himself gives publicity to his 
own bad actions. He has himself diminished his reputation, 
and his act becomes a part of public indiscriminate infor- 
mation. We are at liberty to mention this, like any other 
fact, when the mention of it is demanded ; but not to do it 
for the sake of injuring him. So, whenever his bad actions 
are made known by the providence of God, it comes under 
the same rule. Thus, I may know that a man has acted 
dishonestly. This alone does not give me liberty to speak 
of it. But, if his dishonesty have been proved before a court 
of justice, it then becomes really a part of his reputation, 
and I am at liberty to speak of it in the same manner as of 
any other fact. Yet even here, if I speak of it with pleas- 
ure, or with a desire of injury, I commit sin. 

Some of the reasons for this rule, are the following : 

1. The very act itself is injurious to the slanderer's own 
moral character, and to that of him who lends himself to be 
his auditor. Familiarity with wrong diminishes our abhor- 
rence of It. The contemplation of it in others fosters the 
spirit of envy and uncharitableness, and leads us, in the end; 
to exult in, rather than sorrow over, the faults of others. 

2. In the present imperfect state, where every individual^, 
being fallible, must fail somewhere, if every one were at lib- 
erty to speak of all the wrong and all the imperfection of every 
one whom he knew, society would soon become intolerable, 
from the festering of universal ill-will. What would be- 



JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION. 267 

come of families, of friendships, of communities, if parents 
and children, husbands and wives, acquaintances, neighbors, 
and citizens, should proclaim every failing which they knew 
or heard of, respecting each other ? Now, there can no 
medium be established between telling *very thing, and 
forbidding every thing to be told which is told without 
adequate cause. 

3. We may judge of the justice of the rule, by applying 
it to ourselves. We despise the man who, either thought- 
lessly or maliciously, proclaims what he considers, either 
justly or unjustly, our failings. Now, what can be more 
unjust or more despicable, than to do that which our ovyai 
conscience testifies to be unjust and despicable in others ? 

II. The same law forbids us to utter general conclusions 
respecting the characters of men, drawn from particular 
bad actions which they may have committed. This is 
manifest injustice, and it includes, frequently, lying as well 
as slander. A single action is rarely decisive of character, 
even in respect to that department of character to which it 
belongs. A single illiberal action does not prove a man to be 
covetous, any more than a single act of charity proves him to 
be benevolent. How unjust, then, must it be, to proclaim 
a man destitute of a whole class of virtues, because of one 
failure in virtue ! How much more unjust, on account of 
one fault, to deny him all claim to any virtue whatsoever ! 
Yet such is frequently the very object of calumny. And, 
in general, this fonii of vice is added to that just noticed. 
Men first, in violation of the law of reciprocity, make public 
the evil actions of others ; and then, with a malignant power 
of generalization, proceed to deny their claims, not only to 
a whole class of virtues, but, not unfrequently, to all virtue 
whatsoever. The reasons, in this case, are similar to those 
just mentioned. 

HI. We are forbidden to judge, that is, to assign un- 
necessarily bad motive? to the actions of men. I say un- 
necessarily, for some actions are in their nature such, that 
to presume a good motive is impossible. 

This rule would teach us, first, to presume no unworthy 
motive, when the action is susceptible of an innocent one. 

And, secondly, never to ascribe to an action which we 



268 JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION. 

confess to be good, any other motive than that from which 
It professes to proceed. 

This is the rule by which we are bound to be governed 
in our own private opinions of men. And if, from any 
circumstances, \^ are led to entertain any doubts of the 
motives of men, we are bound to retain these doubts within 
our own bosoms, unless we are obliged, for some sufficient 
reason, to disclose them. But if we are obliged to adopt 
this rule respecting our own ojpijiion^ of others, by how 
much more are we obliged to adopt it in the publication of 
our opinions ! If we are not allowed, unnecessarily, to 
suppose an unworthy motive, by how much less are we 
allowed to circulate it, and thus render it universally sup- 
posed ! " Charity thinketh no evil, rejoiceth not in iniquity.''' 

The reasons for this rule are obvious : 

1. The motives of men, unless rendered evident by their 
actions, can be known to God alone. They are, evidently, 
out of the reach of man. In assigning motives unnecessa- 
rily, we therefore undertake to assert as fact, what we at 
the outset confess that we have not the means of knowing 
to be such ; which is, in itself, falsehood : and we do all 
this for the sake of gratifying a contemptible vanity, or a 
wicked envy ; or, what is scarcely less reprehensible, from 
a thoughtless love of talking. 

2. There is no offence by which we are excited to a 
livelier or more just indignation, than by the misinterpreta- 
tion of our own motives. This quick sensitiveness in our- 
selves, should admonish us of the guilt which we incur, 
when we traduce the motives of others. 

IV. By the same rule, we are forbidden to lessen the 
estimation in which others are held, by ridicule, mimicry, 
or by any means by which they are brought into contempt. 
No man can be greatly respected by those to whom he is 
the frequent subject of laughter. It is but a very imperfect 
excuse for conduct of this sort, to plead that we do not 
mean any harm. What do we mean ? Surely, reasonable 
oeings should be prepared to answer this questiofl. Were 
the witty calumniator to stand concealed, and hear himself 
made the subject of remarks precisely similar to those in 
which ] e indulges respecting others, he would have a very 



JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION. 269 

definite conception of what others mean. Let him, then; 
cany the lesson home to his own bosom. 

Nor is this evil the less for the veil under which it is 
frequently and hypocritically hidden. Men and women 
propagate slander under the cover of secrecy, supposing 
that, by uttering it under this injunction, the guilt is of 
coui-se removed. But it is not so. The simple question 
is this : Does my duty either to God or to man require me 
to publish this, which will injure another ? If it do, publish 
it wherever that duty requires, and do it fearlessly. If it 
do not, it is just as great guilt to publish it to one as to 
another. We are bound, in all such cases, to ask ourselves 
the question. Am I under obligation to tell this fact to this 
pei-son ? If not, I am under the contrary obligation to be 
silent. And still more. This injunction of secrecy is gen- 
erally nothing better than the mere dictate of cowardice. 
We wish to gratify our love of detraction, but are afraid of 
the consequences to ourselves. We therefore convei-se 
under this injunction, that the injury to another may be 
with impunity to ourselves. And hence it is, that in this 
manner the vilest and most injurious calumnies are generally 
cii'culated. 

And, lastly, if all this be so, it will be readily seen that 
a very large portion of the oi-^inary conversation of persons,^ 
even in many respects estimable, is far from being inno- 
cent. How very common is personal character, in all its 
length and breadth, the matter of common conversation ! 
And in this discussion, men seem to forget that they are 
under any other law than that which is administered by a 
judge and jury. How commonly are characters dissected, 
with apparendy the only object of displaying the power 
of malignant acumen possessed by the operator, as though 
another's reputation were made for no other purpose than 
the gratification of the meanest and most unlovely attributes 
of the human heart ! Well may we say, with the apostle 
James, "If any man offend not in ivord, the same is a 
perfect man, able to bridle the whole body." Well may 
we tremble before the declaration of the blessed Savior: 
** For every idle word that men speal-i, they shall give an 
account in the day of judgment." 
23* 



270 JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION. 

The following extract from Bishop Wilson, on this sub« 
ject, breathes the spirit of true Christian philanthropy : ** It 
is too true, that some evil passion or other, and to gratify 
our corruption, is the aim of most conversations. We love 
to speak of past troubles ; hatred and ill-will make us take 
pleasure in relating the evil actions of our enemies. We 
compare, with some degree of pride, the advantages which 
we have over others. We recount, with too sensible a 
pleasure, the worldly happiness which we enjoy. This 
streng'thens our passions, and increases our corruption. 
God grant that I may watch against a weakness that has 
such evil consequences ! May I never hear, and never 
repeat with pleasure, such things as may dishonor God, hurt 
my own character, of injure my neighbor !" — Bishop Wil- 
son's Sacra Privata. 

The precepts of the Scriptures, on this subject, are 
numerous and explicit. It will be necessary here to refer 
only to a few, for the sake of illustrating their general ten- 
dency : " Judge not, that ye be not judged : for with what 
judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged ; and with what 
measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again. And 
why beholdest thou the 'inote that is in thy brother's eye, 
but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye ?" 
Matthew vii, 1 — 5. " Let all bitterness, and wrath, and 
clamor, and evil-speaking, be put away from you." Ephe- 
sians iv, 3 1 . " Speak evil of no man." Titus iii, 2. "He 
that will love life, and see good days, let him refrain his 
tong-ue from evil." 1 Peter iii, 10. 

See also James, third chapter, for a graphic delineation 
of the miseries produced by the unlicensed use of the 
tongue. 

Secondly. I have thus far considered the cases in which 
silence, respecting the evil actions of others, is our duty. 
It is our duty, when we have no just cause, either for 
speaking at all, or for speaking to the particular person 
whom we address. But where there is a sufficient cause, 
we are under an equally imperative obligation to speak, 
wherever and whenever that cause shall demand it. The 
common fault of men is, that they speak when they should 
be silent, and are silent only when they shoidd speak. 



JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION. 271 

The plain distinction, in this case, is the following : We 
are forbidden, causelessly, to injure another, even if he have 
done wrong. Yet, whenever justice can be done, or inno- 
cence protected, in no other manner than by a course which 
must injure him, we are under no such prohibition. No 
man has a right to expect to do \\Tong with impunity ; 
much less has he a right to expect that, in order to shield 
him from the just consequences of his actions, injustice 
should be done to others, or that other men shall, by silence, 
deliver up the innocent and unwaiy into his power. 

The principle by which we are to test our own motives, 
in speaking of that which may harm others, is this : When 
we utter any thing which will harm another, and we do it 
either without cause, or with pleasure, or thoughtlessly, we 
are guilty of calumny. When we do it with pain and sor- 
'Yowfor the offender, and from the sincere motive oi protect- 
ing the innocent, of promoting the ends of public justice, or 
for the good of the offender himself and speak of it only to 
such persons, and in such manner, as is consistent with these 
ends, we may speak of the evil actions of others, and yet 
be wholly innocent of calumny. 

We are therefore bound to speak of the faults of others, 

1. To promote the ends of public justice. He who con- 
ceals a crime against society, renders himself a party to 
the ofFenco. We are bound here, not merely to speak of 
it, but also to speak of it to the proper civil officer, in 
order that it may be brought to trial and punishment. The 
ordinary prejudice against informing is unwise and immoral. 
He who, fro?n proper motives, informs against crime, per- 
forms an act as honorable as that of the judge who tries the 
cause, or of the juror who returns the verdict. That this 
may be done from improper motives, alters not the case. 
A judge may hold his office for the love of money, but this 
does not make the office despicable. 

2. To protect the innocent. When we are possessed 
of a knowledge of certain facts in a man's history, which, 
if known to a third pei-son, would protect him from im- 
portant injury, it may fi-equently be our duty to put that 
person on his guard. If A knows that B, under the pre- 
tence of religion, is insinuating himself into the good opin- 



272 JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION. 

ion of C, for the purpose of gaining control over his prop- 
erty, A is bound to put C upon his guard. If I know 
that a man who is already married, is paying his addresses 
to a lady in another country, I am bound to give her the 
information. So, if I know of a plan laid for the purpose 
of seduction, I am bound to make use of that knowledge 
to defeat it. All that is required here, is, that I know 
what I assert to be fact ; and that I use it simply for the 
purposes specified. 

3. For the good of the offender himself. When we 
know of the crimes of another, and there is some person 
— for instance, a parent, a guardian, or instructor — ^who 
might, by control or advice, be the means of the offender's 
reformation, it is our duty to give the necessary information. 
It is frequently the greatest kindness that we can manifest 
to both parties. Were it more commonly practised, the 
allurements to sin would be much less attractive, and the 
hope of success in correcting the evil habits of the young, 
much more encouraging. No wicked person has a right 
to expect that the community will keep his conduct a 
secret from those who have a right specially to be informed 
of it. He who does so is partaker in the guilt. 

4. Though we may not be at liberty to make public the 
evil actions of another, yet no obligation exists to conceal 
his fault by maintaining towards him our formei habits of 
intimacy. If we know him to be unworthy of our confi- 
dence or acquaintance, we have no right to act a lie, by 
conducting towards him, in public or in private, as though 
he were worthy of it. By associating with a man, we give 
to the public an assurance, that we know of nothing to 
render him unworthy of our association. If we falsify 
this assurance, we are guilty of deception, and of a decep- 
tion by which we benefit the wicked at the expense of 
the innocent, and, so far as our example can do it, place 
the latter in the power of the former. And still more, if 
we associate, on terms of voluntary intimacy, with persons 
of known bad character, we virtually declare that such 
offences constitute no reason why the persons in question 
are not good enough associates for us. We thus virtually 
become the patrons of their crime. 



JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION. 273 

5. From what has been remarked, we see what I? the 
nature of an historian's duty. He has to do with facts 
which the individuals themselves have made public, or 
which have been made public by the providence of God. 
He records what has already been made known. What 
has not been made known, therefore, comes not within 
his province ; but whatever has been made known, comes 
properly within it. This latter he is bound to use, without 
either fear, favor or afiection. If, from party zeal or secta- 
rian bigotiy, or individual partiality, he exaggerate, or con- 
ceal, or misrepresent, if he " aught extenuate, or set down 
aught in mahce," he is guilty of calumny of the most in- 
excusable character. It is calumny perpetrated deliber- 
ately, under the guise of impartiality, and perpetrated in a 
ibrm intended to give it the widest publicity and the most 
permanent duration. 

These remarks have had respect, principally, to the pub- 
lication of injurious tmth or falsehood, by conversation. 
But it will be immediately seen that they apply, with addi- 
tional force, to the publication of whatever is injurious 
hy the press. If it be wi'ong to injure my neighbor's rep- 
utation within the limited circle of my acquaintance, how 
much more wrong must it be to injure it throughout a 
nation ! If it be, by universal acknowledgment, mean, to 
underrate the talents or vilify the character of a pei-sonal 
rival, how much more so, that of a political opponent ! 
If it would be degrading in me to do it myself, by how 
much is it less degrading to cause it to be done by others, 
and to honor or dishonor with my confidence, and reward 
with political distinction, those who do it ? Because a 
man is a pohtical opponent, does he cease to be a creature 
of God ; and do we cease to be under obUgations to obey 
the law of God in respect to him ? or rather, I might ask, 
do men think that political collisions banish the Deity from 
the throne of the universe ? Nor do these remarks apply 
to political dissensions alone. The conductor of a pubhc 
press possesses no greater privileges than any other man, 
nor has he any more right than any other man, to use, or 
suffer to be used, his press, for the sake of gratifying per- 
sonal pique, or avenging individual wrong, or holding up 



274 JUSTICE AS IT RKSPECTS REPUTATION. 

individuals, without trial, to public scorn. Crime against 
society is to be punished by society, and by society alone ; 
and he who conducts a public press has no more rights 
because he has the physical power, to inflict pain, than any 
other individual. If one man may do it because he has a 
press, another may do it because he has muscular strength ; 
and thus, the government of society is brought to an end. 
Nor has he even a right to publish cases of individual vice, 
unless the providence of God has mide them public before. 
While they are out of sight of the public, they are out of 
his sight, unless he can show that he has been specially 
appointed to perform this service. 



27i 



CLASS FIRST. 

DUTIES TO MEN, AS MEN. 
VERACITY. 

Every individual, by necessity, stands in most important 
relations, both to the past and to the future. Without a 
knowledge of what has been, and of what, so far as his 
fellow-men ate concerned, will be, he can form no decision 
in regard to the present. But this knowledge could never 
be attained, unless his constitution were made to cor- 
respond with his circumstances. It has, therefore, been 
made to correspond. There is, on the one hand, in 
men, a strong a priori disposition to tell the tmth ; and it 
controls them, unless some other motive interpose ; and 
there is, on the other hand, a disposition to believe what 
is told, unless some counteracting motive is supposed to 
operate. 

Veracity has respect to the past and present, or to 
die FUTURE. We shall consider them separately. 



276 



CHAPTER FIRST. 

VERACITY AS IT RESPECTS THE PAST AND PRESENT 

/eracity, in this sense, always has respect to a fact , 
that is, to something done, or to something which we be- 
lieve to be doing. 

Moral truth consists in our intention to convey to another, 
to the best of our ability, the conception of a fact, exactly 
as it exists in our own minds. 

Physical truth consists in conveying to another the con- 
ception of a fact, precisely as it actually exists, or existed. 

These two, it is evident, do not always coincide. 

I may innocently have obtained an incorrect conception 
of a fact myself, and yet may intend to convey it to another 
precisely as it exists in my own mind. Here, then, is a 
moral truth, but a physical untruth. 

Or^ again, I may have a correct conception of a fact, 
supposing it to be an incorrect one, but may convey it to 
another, with the intention to deceive. Here, then, is a 
moral falsehood, and a physical truth. Pure tmth is com- 
municated, only, when I have a correct conception of a 
fact, and communicate it, intentionally, to another, precisely 
as it exists in my own mind. 

The law on this subject demands, that, when we profess 
to convey a fact to another, we, to the best of our ability, 
convey to him the impression which exists in our own 
minds. This implies, first, that we convey the impression 
which exists, and not another ; and, secondly, that we con- 
vey that impression, without diminution or exaggeration. 
In other words, we are obliged, in the language of jurispru- 
dence, to tell the tmth, the whole truth, and nothing but 
the tioith. 

This law, therefore, forbids, — 

1. The utterance J as truth, of what we know to be false. 



VERACITY AS IT RESPECTS, ETC. 277 

I 9ay the utterance as truth, for we sometimes imagine 
cases, for the sake of illustration, as m parables or fictitious 
writing, where it is knowTi beforehand^ that we merely 
address the imagination. Since we utter it as fiction, and 
do not \v\sh it to be believed, there is no falsehood if it be 
not true. 

2. Uttering as truth, what we do not Jaww to be true. 
Many things which men assert they cannot know to be 
true ; such, for instance, are, in many cases, our views of 
the motives of others. There are many other things which 
may be probable, and we may be convinced that they are 
so, but of which we cannot anive at the certainty. There 
are other things which are merely matters of opinion, con- 
cerning which every several man may hold a different 
opinion. Now, in any such case, to utter as truth what we 
cannot know, or have not known to be truth, is falsehood. 
If a man utter any thing as truth, he assumes the responsi- 
bility of ascertaining it to be • so. If he, who makes the 
assertion, be not responsible, where shall the responsibility 
rest ? And, if any man may utter what he chooses, under 
no responsibility, there is the end of all credibiHty. 

But, it will be said, are we never to utter any thing 
which we do not know to be true ? I answer : we are 
never to utter as truth what we do not Tcnow to he true. 
Whatever is a matter of probability we may utter as a mat- 
ter of probability ; whatever is a matter of opinion, we may 
state as a matter of opinion. If we convey to another a 
conception as true, of which we have only the impression 
of probability, we convey a different conception fi-om that 
which exists in our own minds, and of course we do, in 
fact, speak falsely. 

3. Uttering what may he true in fact, hut uttering it in 
such a manner, as to convey a false impression to the 
hearers. 

As, a. By exaggerating some or all of the circumstances 
attendant upon the facts. 

h. By extenuating some or all of the circumstances at- 
tendant upon the facts. » 

c. By exaggerating some, and extenuating others. 

d. By stating the facts just as they existed, but so ar- 

24 



278 VERACITY AS IT RESPECTS 

ranging them as to leave a false impression upon the hearer 
As, for instance, I might say, A entered B's room, and left 
it at ten o'clock ; within five minutes after he left it, B dis- 
covered that his watch had been stolen. Now, although I 
do not say that A stole B's watch, yet, if I intentionally so 
arrange and connect these facts as to leave a false impres- 
sion upon the mmd of the hearer, I am guilty of falsehood. 
This is a crime 'to which pleaders and partial historians, and 
all prejudiced nan-ators, are specially liable. 

4. As the crime, here considered, consists in making a 
false impression, with intention to deceive ; the same effect 
may be produced by the tones of the voice, a look of the 
eye, a motion of the head, or any thing by which the mind 
of another may be influenced. The same rule, therefore, 
applies to impressions made in this manner, as to those 
made by words. 

5. As this rule applies to our intercourse with men as 
intelligent agents, it applies to our intercourse with men 
under all the possible relations of life. Thus, it forbids 
parents to lie to children, and children to lie to parents ; 
instructors to pupils, and pupils to instructors ; the old to 
the young, and the young to the old ; attorneys to jurors, 
and jurors to attorneys ; buyers to sellers, and sellers to 
buyers. That is, the obligation is universal, and cannot be 
annulled, by any of the complicated relations in which men 
stand to each other. 

Nor can it be varied, by the considerations, often intro- 
duced, that the person with whom we are conversing has 
no right to know the truth. This is a sufficient reason why 
we should not tell the truth, but it is no reason why we 
should tell a falsehood. Under such circumstances, we are 
at liberty to refuse to reveal any thing, but we are not at 
liberty to utter what is false. 

The reason for this, is the followmg : The obligation to ve- 
racity does not depend upon the right of the inquirer to know 
the truth. Did our obligation depend upon this, it would 
vary with every person with whom we conversed ; and, in 
everjfc case before speaking, we should be at liberty to 
measure the extent of our neighbor's right, and to tell him 
truth or falsehood accordingly. And, inasmuch as the 



THE PAST AND PRESENT. 279 

person whom we address, would never know at what rate 
we estimated his right ; no one would know how much to 
believe, any more than we should know how much truth 
we were under obligation to tell. This would at once de- 
stroy every obligation to veracity. On the contrary, inas- 
much as we are under obligation to utter nothing but the 
tmth in consequence of our relations to God, this obligation 
is never affected by any of the circumstances under which 
we are called upon to testify. Let no one, therefore, 
excuse himself, on the ground that he tells only innocent 
lies. It cannot be innocent to do that which God has for- 
bidden. " Lie not one to another, brethren, seeing ye have 
put off the old man with his deeds." 

That obedience to this law is demanded by the will of 
God, is manifest from several considerations : 

1. We are created with a disposition to speak what is 
true, and also to believe what is spoken. The fact that we 
are thus constituted, conveys to us an intimation that the 
Creator wills us to obey this constitution. The intention 
is as evident as that which is manifested in creating the eye 
for light, and light for the eye. 

2. We are created with a moral constitution, by which 
(unless our moral susceptibility shall have been destroyed) 
we suiter pain whenever we violate this law, and by which 
also we receive pleasure whenever, under circumstances 
which urge to the contrary, we steadfastly obey it. 

3. We are so constituted that obedience to the law of 
veracity is absolutely necessary to our happiness. Were 
we to lose either our feeling of obligation to tell the truth, 
or our disposition to receive as truth whatever is told to us, 
there would at once be an end to all science and all knowl- 
edge, beyond that which every man had obtained by his 
own personal obseiTation and experience. No man could 
profit by the discoveries of his contemporaries, much less by 
the discoveries of those men who have gone before him. 
Lansaiao^e would be useless, and we should be but Httle re- 
moved from the biaites. Every one must be aware, upon 
the slightest reflection, that a community of entire liars could 
not exist in a state of society. The effects of such a course 



280 VERACITY AS IT RESPECTS 

of conduct upon the whole, show us what is the will of Goo 
in the individual case. 

4. The will of God is abundantly made Imown to us in 
the holy Scriptures. I subjoin a few examples : 

" Thou shalt not bear false witness against they neigh- 
bor.'* Ex. XX, 16. " Lying lips are an abomination to 
the Lord." Frov. vi, 16. " Keep thy tongue from evil, 
and thy lips that they speak no guile." Psalm xxxiv, 13 
Those that speak lies are called children of the devil, that 
is, followers, imitators of the actions of the devil. John viii, 
44. See also the cases of Ananias and Sapphira, and of 
Gehazi. Acts v, and 2 Kings v, 20 — 27. "All liars 
shall have their portion in the lake that burneth with fire 
and brimstone." Rev, xxi, 8. " There shall in no wise 
enter therein (into heaven) any thing that maketh a lie." 
Ibid, verse 27. 

From what has been said, the importance of strict ad- 
herence to veracity is too evident to need further remark, 
I will, however, add, that the evil of falsehood in small 
matters, in lies told to amuse, in petty exaggerations, and 
in complimentary discourse, is not by any means duly esti- 
mated. Let it be always borne in mind, that he who 
knowingly utters what is false, tells a lie ; and a he, whether 
white, or of any other color, is a violation of the command 
of that God by whom we must be judged. And let us also 
remember that there is no vice which, more easily than this, 
stupifies a man's conscience. He who tells lies frequently, 
will soon become an habitual liar ; and an habitual liar will 
soon lose the power of readily distinguishing between the 
conceptions of his imagination and the recollections of his 
memory. I have known a few persons, who seemed to 
have arrived at this most deplorable moral condition. Let 
every one, therefore, beware of even the most distant ap- 
proaches to this detestable vice. A volume might easily be 
written on the misery and loss of character which have 
grown out of a single lie ; and another volume of illustra- 
tions of the moral power which men have gained by means 
of no other prominent attribute than that of bold, unshrinking 
veracity. 



THE PAST AND PRESENT. 281 

If lying be thus pernicious to ourselves, how wicked must 
it be to teach it, or specially to require it of othei"s ! What 
shall we say, then, of parents, who, to accomplish a mo- 
mentary purpose, will not hesitate to utter to a child the 
most flagitious falsehoods ? Or what shall we say of those 
heads of families, who direct their children or servants de- 
liberately to declare that they are not at home, while they 
are quietly sitting in their parlor or their study ? What 
right has any one, for the purpose of securing a momentary 
convenience, or avoiding a petty annoyance, to injure for 
ever the moral sentiments of another ? How can such a 
man or woman expect to hear the truth from those whom 
they have deliberately taught to he ? The expectation is 
absurd ; and the result will show that such persons, in the 
end, drink abundantly of the cup which they themselves 
liave mingled. Before any man is tempted to lie, let him 
remember that God governs this universe on the principles 
of veracity, and that the whole constitution of things is so 
arranged as to vindicate truth, and to expose falsehood. 
Hence, the first he always requires a multitude of lies to 
conceal it ; each one of which plunges the criminal into 
more inextricable embaiTassment ; and, at last, all of them 
will combine to cover him with shame. The inconveniences 
of tmth, aside from the question of guilt and innocence, aie 
infinitely less than the inconveniences of falsehood. 



24* 



2S2 



CHAPTER SECOND. 

VERACITY IN RESPECT TO THE FUTURE. 

The future is, within some conditions, subject to our 
power. We may, therefore, place ourselves under moral 
obligations to act, within those conditions, in a particular 
manner. When we make a promise, we voluntarily place 
ourselves under such a moral obligation. The law of ve- 
racity obliges us to flilfil it. 

This part of the subject includes promises and contracts. 

I. Of PROMISES. 

In every promise, two things are to be considered ; the 
intention and the obligation. 

1. TJie intention. The law of veracity, in this respect, 
demands that we convey to the promisee the intention as it 
exists in our own minds. When we inform another that 
we intend to do a service for him to-morrow, we have no 
more right to lie about this intention than about any other 
matter. 

2. TTie obligation. The law of veracity obliges us to 
flilfil the intention just as we made it known. In other 
words, we are under obligation to satisfy, precisely, the ex- 
pectation which we voluntarily excited. The rule of 
Dr. Paley is as follows : " A promise is binding in the sense 
in which the promiser supposed the promisee to receive it." 

The modes in which promises may be violated, and the 
reasons for believing the obligation to fulfil promises to be 
enforced by the law of God, are so similar to those men- 
tioned in the preceding chapter, that I will not repeat 
them. 

I therefore proceed to consider in what cases promises 
are not binding. The following are, I think, among the 
most important : 

Promises are not binding, — 



VER^VCITY IN RESPECT TO THE FUTURE. 263 

1. When the performance is impossihJe. We cannot be 
under obligation to do what is plainly out of our power. 
The moral character of such a promise, will, however, vary 
with the circumstances under which the promise was made. 
[f I knew nothing of the impossibility, and honestly ex- 
pressed an intention which I designed to fulfil, I am, at the 
bar of conscience, acquitted. The providence of God has 
interfered with my intention, and I am not to blame. If, 
on the other hand, I knew of the impossibility, I have vio- 
lated the law of veracity. I expressed an intention which 
I did not mean to fulfil. I am bound to make good to the 
other party all the loss which he may have sustained by 
my crime. 

2. When the promise is unlawful. No man can be 
under ohligation to violate obligation ; for this would be to 
suppose a man to be guilty for not being guilty. IMuch 
less, can he be under obligation to violate his obligations to 
God. Hence, promises to lie, to steal, or in any manner 
to violate the laws of society, are not binding. And the 
duty of every man, who has placed himself under any such 
obligation, is, at once, to confess liis fault, to declare himself 
fi'ee fi'om his engagement, and to endeavor to persuade 
others to do the same. Here, as in the former instance, 
there are two cases. Where the unlawfulness was not 
Jcnoini, the promiser is under no other obligation than that 
of infomiing the promisee of the facts as soon as possible. 
Where the unlawfulness ivas Icnoivn to the promiser, and 
not to the promisee, I think that the fomier is bound to make 
good the loss to the latter, if any occur. AVhen it is known 
to both parties, either is at liberty to disengage himself, and 
neither is under any obligation to make any restitution ; for 
the fault is common to both, and each should bear his 
own share of the inconvenience. 

3. Promises are not binding where no expectation is vol- 
untarily excited by the promiser. He is bound only to fulfil 
the expectation which he voluntarily excites ; and if he have 
excited none, he has made no promise. If A tell B that 
ne shall give a horse to C, and B, without A's knowledge 
or consent, mform C of it, A is not bound. But, if he 



284 VERACITY IN RESPECT TO THE FUTURE. 

directed B to give the information, he is as much bound 
as though he infoiTned C himself. 

4. Promises are not binding when they are 'known ^y both 
parties to proceed upon a condition, which condition is sub' 
sequenily, by the promiser, found not to exist. As, if A 
promise to give a beggar money on the faith of his story, 
and the story be subsequently found to be a fabrication, A, 
in such a case, is manifestly not bound. 

5. As the very conception of a promise implies an obli- 
gation entered into between two intelligent moral agents, 
I think there can be no such obligation entered into where 
one of the parties is not a moral agent. I do not think we 
can properly be said to make a promise to a brute, nor to 
violate it. I think the same is true of a madman. Never- 
theless, expediency has, even in such cases, always taught 
the importance of fulfilling expectation which we volun- 
tarily excite. I think, however, that it stands on the 
ground of expediency, and not of obhgation. I do not 
suppose that any one would feel guilty for deceiving a mad- 
man, in order to lead him to a madhouse. 

These seem to me to be the most common cases in 
which promises are not binding. The mere inconvenience 
to which we may be exposed by fulfilling a promise, is not 
a release. We are at liberty, beforehand, to enter into the 
obligation, or not. No man need promise unless he please : 
but, having once promised, he is holden until he be morally 
liberated. Hence, as, after the obligation is foiTned, it 
cannot be recalled, prudence would teach us to be ex- 
tremely cautious in making promises. Except in cases 
where we are, from long experience, fully acquainted with 
all the ordinary contingencies of an event, we ought never 
to make a promise without sufficient opportunity for reflec- 
tion. It is a good rule, to enter into no important engage- 
ment on the same day in which it is first presented to our 
notice. And I believe that it will be generally found, that 
those who are most careful in promising, are the most con- 
scientious in performing ; and that, on the contrary, those 
who are willing, on all occasions, to pledge themselves on 
the instant, have very little difficulty in violating their en- 
gagements with correspondent thoughtlessness. 



VERACITY IN RESPECT TO THE FUTURE. 285 

Of CONTRACTS. 

The peculiarity of a contract is, that it is a mutual prom- 
ise : that is, we promise to do one thmg, on the condition 
that another pei-son does another. 

The rule of interpretation, the reasons for its obligatori- 
ness, and the cases of exception to the obligatoriness, are 
the same as in the preceding cases, except that it has a 
specific condition annexed, by which the obligation is 
limited. 

Hence, after a contract is made, while the other party 
perfonns his part, we are under obligation to perform oui 
part ; but, if either party fail, the other is, by the failure 
of the condition essential to the contract, liberated. 

But this is not all. Not only is the one party liberated, 
by the failure of the other party to perform his part of the 
contract ; the first has, moreover, upon the second, a claim 
for damages to the amount of what he may have suffered 
by such failure. 

Here, however, it is to be observed, that a distinction is 
to be made between a simple contract, that is, a contract 
to do a particular act, and a contract by which we enter 
upon a relation established by our Creator. Of the first 
kind^ are ordinary mercantile contracts to sell or deliver 
merchandise at a particular place, for a specified sum, to be 
paid at a particular time. Here, if the price be not paid, 
we are under no obligation to deliver the goods ; and, if 
the goods be not delivered, we are under no obligation to 
pay the price. Of the second kind, are the contract of 
civil society, and the marriage contract. These, being 
appointed by the constitution under which God has placed 
us, may be dissolved only for such reasons as he has ap- 
pointed. Thus, society and the individual enter mutually 
mto certain obhgations with respect to each other ; but it 
does not follow, that either party is liberated by every fail- 
ure of the other. The case is the same with the mamage 
?,ontract. In these instances, each party is bound to fulfil 
ts part of the contract, notwithstanding the failure of the 
other. 

It is here proper to remark, that the obligation to veracity 
IS precisely the same, under what relations soever it may be 



286 VERACITY IN RESPECT TO THE FUTURE. 

formed. It is as binding between individuals and society, 
on both parts, and upon societies and societies, as it is be- 
tween individuals. There is no more excuse for a society, 
when It violates its obligation to an individual, or for an 
individual when he violates his obligations to a society, 
than in any other case of deliberate falsehood. By how 
much more are societies or communities bound to fidelity, 
in their engagements with each other, since the faith of 
treaties is the only banier which interposes to shield nations 
from the appeal to bloodshed in every case of collision of 
interests ! And the obligation is the same, under what 
circumstances soever nations may treat with each other. 
A civilized people has no right to violate its solemn obli- 
gations, because the other party is uncivilized. A strong 
nation has no right to lie to a weak nation. The simple 
fact, that two communities of moral agents have entered 
mto engagements, binds both of them equally in the sight 
of their common Creator. And He, who is the Judge of 
all, in His holy habitation, will assuredly avenge, with most 
solemn retributions, that violation of faith, in which the 
peculiar blessings bestowed upon one party are made a 
reason for inflicting misery upon the other party, with whom 
he has dealt less bountifully. Shortly before the death of 
the Duke of Burgundy, the pupil of Fenelon, a cabinet 
council was held, at which he was present, to take into 
consideration the expediency of violating a treaty ; which 
it was supposed could be done with manifest advantage 
to France. The treaty was read ; and the ministers ex- 
plained in what respects it operated unfavorably, and how 
great an accession of territory might be made to France, 
by acting in defiance of its solemn obligations. Reasons 
of state were, of course, offered in abundance, to justify 
tliB deed of perfidy. The Duke of Burgundy heard them 
all in silence. When they had finished, he closed the 
conference by laying his hand upon the instrument, and 
saying, with emphasis, " Gentlemen, there is a treaty.''^ 
This single sentiment is a more glorious monument to his 
fame, than a column inscribed with the record of an 
(hundred victories. 

It is freauently said, partly by way of explanation, and 



VERACITY IN RESPECT TO THE FUTURE. 287 

partly by way of excuse, for the violation of contracts by 
communities, that corporate bodies have no conscience. 
In what sense this is true, it is not necessary here to inquire. 
It is sufficient to know that every one of the corporators 
has a conscience, and is responsil3le to God for obedience 
to its dictates. I\Ien may mystify before each other, 
and they may stupify the monitor m their own bosoms, by 
throwing the blame of perfidy upon each other ; but it is 
yet w^oithy to be remembered, diat they act in the presence 
of a Being with whom the night shineth as the day, and that 
they must appear before a tribunal where there will be " no 
shuffling:." For beinsjs acting under these conditions, there 
surely can be no wiser or better course, than that of simple, 
unsophisticated verity, under what relations soever they 
may be called upon to act. 



288 



CHAPTER THIRD. 



OP OATHS. 



I. The theory of oaths. 

It is frequently of the highest importance to society, that 
the facts relating to a particular transaction should be dis- 
tinctly and accurately ascertained. Unless this could be 
done, neither the innocent could be protected, nor the 
guilty punished ; that is, justice could not be administered, 
and society could not exist. 

To almost every fact, or to the circumstances which 
determine it to be fact, there must, from the laws of cause 
and effect, and from the social nature of man, be many wit- 
nesses. The fact can, therefore, be generally known, if 
the witnesses can be induced to testify, and to testify the 
truth. 

To place men under such circumstances, that, upon the 
ordinary principles of the human mind, they shall be most 
likely to testify truly, is the design of administering an oath. 

In taking an oath, besides incurring the ordinary civil 
penalties incident to perjury, he who swears, calls upon 
God to witness the truth of his assertions ; and, also, either 
expressly or by implication, invokes upon himself the judg- 
ments of God, if he speak falsely. The ordinary form of 
swearing in this country, and in Great Britain, is to close 
the promise of veracity with the words, " So help me God ;" 
that is, may God only help me so as I tell the truth. Inas- 
much as, without the help of God, we must be miserable 
for time and for eternity ; to relinquish his help, if we vio- 
late the tmth, is, on this condition, to imprecate upon our- 
selves the absence of the favor of God, and, of course, all 
[)ossible misery for ever. 

The theory of oaths, then, I suppose to be as follows : 

1. Men naturally speak the tmth, when there h no 






OF OATHS. 289 

counteracting motive to prevent it ; and, unless some such 
motive be supposed to supervene, they expect the truth to 
be spoken. 

2. When, however, by speaking falsely, SMne immediate 
"idvantage can be gained, or some immediate evil avoided, 
they will frequently speak falsely. 

3. But, when a greater good can be gained, or a greater 
evil avoided, by speaking the truth, than could possibly be 
eith3r gained or avoided by speaking falsely, they w^ill, on 
the ordinary principles of the human mind, speak the truth. 
To place them under such circumstances, is the design of 
an oath. 

4. Now, as the favor of" God is the source of every 
blessing w^hich man can possibly enjoy, and as his dis- 
pleasure must involve misery utterly beyond the grasp of 
our limited conceptions, if we can place men under such 
circumstances that, by speaking falsely, they relinquish all 
claim to the one, and incur all that is awful in the other, 
we manifestly place a stronger motive before them for 
speaking the truth, tlian can possibly be conceived for 
speaking falsehood. Hence, it is supposed, on the ordinary 
principles of the human mind, that men, under such circum- 
stances, will speak the truth. 

Such I suppose to be the theory of oaths. There can 
be no doubt that, if men acted upon this conviction, the 
tmth would be, by means of oaths, universally elicited. 

But, inasmuch as men may be required to testify, Miose 
practical conviction of these gi'eat moral truths is at best 
but weak, and who are hable to be more strongly influenced 
by immediate than by ulterior motives, human punishments 
have always been affixed to the ciime of perjury. These, 
of coui'se, vary in different ages, and in different periods of 
society. The most equitable provision seems to be that of 
the Jewish law, by which the peijurer was made to suffer 
precisely the same injury which he had designed to inflict 
upon the innocent party. The Mosaic enactment seems 
intended to have been, in regard to this crime, unusually 
rigorous. The judges are specially commanded not to 
spare, but to exact an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. 
It certainly deserves serious consideration, whether modem 
25 



290 OF OATHS. 

legislators might not derive important instruction from thii 
feature of Jewish jurisprudence. 

II. The lawfulness of oaths. On this subject, a diversi- 
ty of opinion has been entertained. It has been urged, by 
those who deny the lawfulness of oaths, — 

1. That oaths are frequently forbidden in the New Tes- 
tament; and that we are commanded to use yes for our 
affirmative, and no for our negative ; for the reason that, 
*^ whatsoever is more than these cometh of evil, or of the 
evil one." 

2. That no man has a right to peril his eternal salvation, 
upon a condition which, from intellectual or moral imbecility, 
he would be so liable to violate. 

3. That no one has a right to oblige another to place 
himself under such conditions. 

4. That the frequent use of oaths tends, by abating our 
reverence for the Deity, to lessen the practical feeling of 
the obligation to veracity. 

5. That no reason can be assigned, why this crime 
should be treated so differently from every other. Other 
crimes, so far as man is concerned, are left to human pun- 
ishments ; and there can be no reason why this crime should 
involve the additional punishment intended by the impre- 
cation of the loss of the soul. 

6. It is said that those sects who never take an oath, are 
as fully believed, upon their simple affirmation, as any 
others ; nay, that false witness among them is more rare 
than among other men taken at random. This is, I believe, 
acknowledged to be the fact. 

Those who defend the lawfiilness of oaths urge, on the 
contrary, — 

1 . That those passages in the New Testament which 
have been referred to, forbid, not judicial oaths, but merely 
profanity. 

2. That our Savior responded, when examined upon 
oath. This, however, is denied, by the other party, to be 
a fair interpretation. 

3. That the Apostles, on several occasions, call God to 
witness, when they are attesting to particular facts. The 
instances adduced are such phrases as these : " God is my 



OF OATHS. 291 

witness;" "Behold, before God I lie not." The example 
m this case is considered sufficient to assure us of the law 
fulness of this sort of appeal. 

4. That the importance of truth to the purposes of jus 
tice, warrants us in taking other measures for the prevention 
of peijury than are taken for the prevention of other crimes , 
and specially, as this is a crime to the commission of which 
there may always exist peculiarly strong temptations. 

These are, I believe, the principal considerations which 
have been urged on both sides of the question. It seems 
to me to need a more thorough discussion than can be 
allowed to it in this place. One thing, however, seems 
evident, that the multiplication of oaths, demanded by the 
present practice of most Christian nations, is not only very 
wicked, but that its direct tendency is to diminish our rever- 
ence for the Deity ; and thus, in the end, to lead to the 
very evil which it is intended to prevent. 

III. Literpretation of oaths. 

As oaths are imposed for the safety of the party admin- 
istering them, they are to be interpreted as he understands 
them. The person under oath has no right to make any 
mental reservation, but to declare the truth, precisely in the 
manner that the tmth, the whole truth, and nothing but the 
tmth, is expected of him. On no other principle would 
we ever Imow what to believe or to expect from a witness. 
U, for the sake of pei-sonal friendship, or personal advan- 
tage, or from fear of pei-sonal inconvenience, or from the 
excitement of party partiality, he shrink from declaring 
the whole tmth, he is as tmly guilty of perjury as though 
he swore falsely for money. 

IV. Different Icinds of oaths. 

Oaths respect either the past or the future, that is, aie 
either assertory or promissory. 

1 . The oath respecting the past, is definite. A transac- 
tion either took place, or it did not take place, and we 
either have or have not some knowledge respecting it. It 
is, therefore, in our power either to tell what we kjiow, or 
to tell what, and in how much, we do not know. This is 
the proper occasion for an oath. 

?. The oath respecting the future is of necessity indefi- 



292 OF OATHS. 

nite, as when we promise upon oath to discharge, to the 
best of our ability, a particular office. Thus, the parties 
may have very different views of what is meant, by dis- 
charging an office according to the best of our ability ; or 
this obhgation may conflict with others, such as domestic or 
personal obligations ; and the incumbent may not know, 
even with the best intentions, which obhgation ought to take 
the precedence, that is, what is the best of his ability. 
Such being the case, who, that is aware of the frailty oi 
human nature, will dare to peril his eternal salvation upon 
the performance, to the best of his ability, of any official 
duty ? And, if these allowances be understood by both 
parties, how are they to be limited ; and, if they be not 
limited, what is the value of an oath ? Such being the case, 
it is, at best, doubtful, whether promissory oaths of office 
ought ever to be required. Much less ought they to be 
required, as is frequently the case, in the most petty details 
of official life. They must be a snare to the conscience of 
a thoughtHil man ; and must tend to obliterate moral dis- 
tinctions from the mind of him who is, as is too frequently 
the case, unfortunately thoughtless. Why should one man, 
who is called upon to discharge the duties of a constable,, 
or of an overseer of common schools, or 'even of a counsellor 
or a judge, be placed under the pains and perils of perjury , 
or under peril of his eternal salvation, any more than his 
neighbor, who discharges the duty of a merchant, of an in 
structor of youth, a physician, or a clergyman ? It seems 
to me that no man can take such an oath of office, upon 
reflection, without such mental reservation as must im- 
mediately convince him that the requirement is nugatoiy ; 
and, if so, that it must be injurious. 



293 



CLASS SECOND. 



DUTIES WHICH ARISE FROM THE CONSTITUTION OF THE SE5 ES. 

It has already been remarked, that the very fact, that our 
Creator has constituted us with a capacity for a particular 
form of happiness, and has provided means for the gratifica- 
tion of that desire, is, in itself, an intimation that he intended 
that this desh'e should be gratified. But, as our happiness 
is the design of this constitution, it is equally evident, that 
he intended this desire to be gratified only in such manner 
as would conduce to this result ; and that, in estimating that 
result, we must take into view the whole nature of man, as 
a rational and accountable being, and not only man as an 
individual, but man also as a society. 

1. The subject upon which we now enter, presents a 
striking illustration of the truth of these remarks. On the 
one hand, it is evident that the principle of sexual^ desire, is 
a part of the constitution of man. That it was intended to 
be gratified, is evident jfrom the fact, that, without such 
gratification, the race of man would immediately cease to 
exist. Again, if it were not placed under restrictions, that 
is, were promiscuous intercourse pennitted, the race would 
perish fi*om neglect of offspring, and universal sterility. 
Thus, universal celibacy and unlimited indulgence, would 
both equally defeat the end of the Creator. It is, therefore, 
as evident that our Creator has imposed a limit to this de- 
sire, as a part of our constitution, as that he has implanted 
within us the desire itself It is the object of the law of 
chastity to explain and enforce this limit. 

2. As it is manifestly the object of the Creator, that the 
sexes should live together, and form a society with each 
other, in many respects dissimilar to every other society, 
producing new relations, and imposing new obligations, the 

25* 



294 DUTIES WHICH ARISE, ETC. 

laws of this society need to be particularly explained. 
This is the law of marriage, 

3. As the result of marriage is children, a new relation 
arises out of this connection, namely, the relation of parent 
and child. This imposes special obligations upon both 
parties, namely, the duties and rights of parents^ and the 
duties and rights of children. 

This class of duties will, therefore, be treated of in the 
following order : 

Chapter 1. The general duty of chastity. 
" 2. The law of marriage. 
" 3. The rights and duties of parents. 
" 4. The rights and duties of children. 



295 



CHAPTER FIRST. 



THE GENERAL DUTY OF CHASTITY, 

The sexual appetite being a part of our constitution, 
and a linut to the indulgence of it being fixed by the 
Creator, the business of moral philosophy is to ascertain 
this limit. 

The moral law on this subject is as follows : 

The duty of chastity limits the indulgence of this desire, 
to individuals who are exclusively united to each other for 
life. 

Hence it forbids, — 

1. Adultery, or intercourse between a married person and 
every other person except that person to whom he or she is 
united for life. 

2. Polygamy, or a plurality of wives or of husbands. 

3. Concubinage, or the temporary cohabitation of indi- 
viduals with each other. 

4. Fornication, or intercourse with prostitutes, or with any 
individual under any other condition than that of the mar- 
riage covenant. 

5. Inasmuch as unchaste desire is strongly exceed by 
the imagination, the law of chastity forbids all impure 
thoughts and actions ; all unchaste conversation, looks, or 
gestures ; the reading of obscene or lascivious book? and 
every thing which would naturally produce in us a d.sposi 
tion of mind to violate this precept. 

That the above is the law of God on this subject, i& 
manifest, both from natural and from revealed religion. 
The law, as above recited, contains two restrictions : 

1. That the individuals be exclusively united to each 
other ; and, — 

2. That this exclusive union be for life. 



296 THE GENERAL DUTY OF CHASTITY. 

Let us examine the indications of natural religion upon 
both of these points. 

I. The indulgence of the desire referred to, is, by the 
law of God, restricted to individuals exclusively united to 
each other. This may be shown from several consider- 
ations. 

1. The number of births, of both sexes, under all cir- 
cumstances, and in all ages, has been substantially equal. 
Now, if single individuals be not exclusively united to each 
other, there must arise an inequality of distribution, unless 
we adopt the law of promiscuous concubinage. But as 
the desire is universal, it cannot be intended that the dis- 
tribution should be unequal ; for thus, many would, from 
necessity, be left single. And the other alternative, pro- 
miscuous concubinage, would very soon lead, as we have 
already remarked, to the extinction of society, 

2. The manifest design of nature is to increase ' the 
human species, in the most rapid ratio consistent with the 
conditions of our being. That is always the most happy 
condition of a nation, and that nation is most accurately 
obeying the laws of our constitution, in which the number 
of the human race is most rapidly increasing. Now it is 
certain, that, under the law of chastity, as it has been ex- 
plained, that is, where individuals are exclusively united 
to each other, the increase of population will be more rapid, 
than under any other circumstances. 

3. That must be the true law of the domestic relations 
which will have the most beneficial effect upon the main 
tenance and education of children. Under the influence 
of such a law as I have described, it is manifest, that chil- 
dren will be incomparably better provided for than under 
that of any other. The number of children produced by 
a sing'e pair thus united, will ordinarily be as great as can 
be supported and instructed by two individuals. And, 
besides, the care of children, under these circumstances, 
oecomes a matter, not merely of duty, but of pleasure. On 
the contrary, just in so far as this law is violated, the love 
of offspring diminishes. The care of a family, instead of a 
pleasure, becomes an insupportable burden ; and, in the 
worst states of society, children either perish by multitudes 



THE GENERAL DUTY OF CHASTITY. 297 

from neglect, oi are murdered by their parents in infancy 
The number of human beings who peiish by infanticide, 
in heathen countries, is ahnost incredible. And in coun- 
tries not heathen, it is a matter of notoriety, that neglect of 
offspring is the universal result of licentiousness in parents. 
The support of foundlings, in some of the most hcentious 
districts in Europe, has become so great a public burden as 
to give rise to serious apprehension. 

4. There can be no doubt that man is intended to derive 
by far the greatest part of his happiness from society. 
And of social happiness, by far the greatest, the most ex- 
quisite, and the most elevating portion, is that derived from 
the domestic relations ; not only those of husband and wife, 
but those of parent and child, of brother and sister, and 
those arising from the more distant gradations of collateral 
kindred. Now, human happiness, in this respect, can exist 
only in proportion to our obedience to the law of chastity. 
What domestic happmess can be expected in a house con- 
tinually agitated by the ceaseless jealousy of several wives, 
and the intenninable quan-els of their several broods of 
children ? How can filial love dwell in the bosoms of chil- 
dren, the progeny of one father by several concubines? 
Tliis state of society existed under the most favorable cir- 
cumstances, in the patriarchal age ; and its results even 
here are sufficiently deplorable. No one can read the his- 
tories of the families of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and 
David, without becoming convinced that no deviation can 
be made from the gospel law of marriage, without creating 
a tendency to ^\Tangling without end, to bitterness and 
strife, nay, to incest and murder. And if this be the result 
of polygamy and concubmage, in what language is it pos- 
sible to describe the effects of univei^sal licentiousness ? By 
this, the very idea of home would be abolished. The name 
of parent would signify no more in man than in the brutes. 
Man, instead of being social, would become nothing more 
than a gregarious animal, distinguished from his fellow- 
animals by nothing else than greater intellectual capacity, 
and the more disgusting abuse of it. 

5. No reason can be assigned, why the intellectual, 
moral and social happiness of the one sex is not as valu- 



298 THE GENERAL DUTY OF CHASTITY. 

able, in the sight of the Creator, as that of the other 
Mucli less can any reason be assigned, why the one sex 
should be to the other merely a source of sensual gratifica- 
tion. But, just as we depart from the law of chastity, as it 
has been here explained, woman ceases to be the equal and 
the companion of man, and becomes either his timid and 
much abused slave, or else the mere instrument for the 
gratification of his lust. No one can pretend to believe 
that the Creator ever intended that one human being 
should stand in such a relation as this to any other human 
being, 

IL The second part of the law of chastity requires that 
this union should be for life. 

Some of the reasons for this are as follows : 

1. In order to domestic happiness, it is necessary that 
both parties should cultivate a spirit of conciliation and for- 
bearance, and mutually endeavor to conform their indi- 
vidual pecuharities to each other. Unless this be done, 
instead of a community of interests, there will arise inces- 
sant collision. Now, nothing can tend more directly to the 
cultivation of a proper temper, than the consideration that 
this union is indissoluble. A mere temporary union, hable 
to be dissolved by every ebullition of passion, would foster 
every impetuous and selfish feeling of the human heart. 

2. If the union be not for life, there is no other limit to 
be fixed to its continuance than the will of either party. 
This would speedily lead to promiscuous concubinage, and 
all the evils resulting from it, of which I have already 
spoken. 

3. Children require the care of both parents until they 
have attained to maturity ; that is, generally, during the 
greater part of the lifetime of their parents, at least, during 
all that period of their life in which they would be most 
likely to desire a separation. Besides, the children are the 
joint property of both parents ; and, if the domestic society 
be dissolved, they belong to one no more than to the other ; 
that is, they have no protector, but are cast out defenceless 
upon the world. 

4. Or, if this be not the case, and they are protected by 
one parent, they must suffer an irreparable loss by the 



THE GENERAL DUTY OF CHASTITY. 299 

withdrawment of the other parent from his or her share of 
the parental responsibihty. In general, the care would fall 
upon the mother, whose parental instincts are the stronger, 
but who is, fi'om her peculiar situation, the less able to 
protect them. The whole tendency of every licentious 
system is, to take advantage of the parental tenderness of 
the mother ; and, because she would rather die than leave 
her children to perish, basely to devolve upon her a burden 
which she is wholly unable to sustain. 

5. Parents themselves, in advanced years, need the care 
of their children, and become dependent, in a great measure, 
for their happiness upon them. But all this source of 
happiness is dried up by any system which allows of the 
disruption of the domestic society, and the desertion of 
offspring, simply at the will of the parent. 

The above considerations may perhaps be deemed suffi- 
cient to establish the general law, and to show what is the 
will of the Creator on this subject. But it may be suggest- 
ed, that all these consequences need not follow occasional 
aberrations, and that individual cases of licentious indul- 
gence should be exempted from the general rule. To this 
I answer, — 

1. The severity of the punishment which God has affixed 
to the crime in general, shows how severe is his displeasure 
against it. God is no respecter of persons, but he will 
visit upon every one the strict reward of his iniquity. And 
he does thus act. In woman, this vice is immediately fatal 
to character ; and in man, it leads directly to those crimes 
which are the sure precursors of temporal and eternal per- 
dition. 

2. The God who made us all, and who is the Father 
and the Judge of his creatures, is omniscient ; and he will 
bring every secret thing into judgment. Let the seducer 
and the profligate remember that each must stand, with his 
victim and his partner in guilt, before the Judge of quick 
and dead, where a recompense will be rendered to every 
man according to his deeds. 

3. Let it be remembered that a female is a moral and 
accountable being, hastening with us to the bar of God ; 
that she is made to be the centre of all that is delightful 



SOO THE GENERAL DUTY OF CHASTITY, 

in the domestic relations ; that, by her very nature she 
looks up to man as her protector, and loves to confide in 
his hands her happiness for life ; and that she can be ruined 
only by abusing that confidence, proving false to that re- 
liance, and using the very loveliest trait in her character as 
the instrument of her undoing. And then let us consider 
the misery into which a loss of virtue must plunge the 
victim and her friends for ever ; the worth of that soul, 
which, unless a miracle interpose, must, by the loss of 
virtue, be consigned to eternal despair ; and I ask whether, 
in the whole catalogue of human crime, there be one 
whose atrocity more justly merits the deepest damnation, 
than that which, for the momentary gratification of a lawless 
appetite, will violate all these obligations, outrage all these 
sympathies, and work out so wide-spreading, so intermi- 
nable a ruin ? 

Subh is the lesson of natural religion on this subject. 

III. The precepts of revealed religion may be very 
briefly stated : 

1. The seventh commandment is, " Thou shalt not com- 
mit adultery." Ex, xx, 14. By the term adultery, is 
meant every unlawful act and thought. The Mosaic law 
enacted that he who seduced a woman should marry her. 
Ex. xxii, 16, 17. This is, doubtless, the equitable rule ; 
and there is no reason why it should not be strictly enforced 
now, both by the civil law and by the opinions of the com- 
munity. 

2. The punishment of adultery was, under the same 
law, death to both parties. Lev. x, 22. Deut. xxii, 22. 
That this should now be enforced, no one will contend. 
But it is sufficient to show in what abhorrence the crime is 
held by the Creator. 

3. The consequences of whoredom and adultery are 
frequently set forth in the prophets, and the most awful 
judgments of God are denounced against them. This 
subject is also treated with graphic power by Solomon, hi 
the book of Proverbs. See Proverbs v, 3 — 29 ; vii, 5 — 26. 

4. Our Savior explains the law of chastity and mar- 
riage in his sermon on the mount, and declares it equally to 
respect unclean thoughts and actions; "Ye have heard 



THE GENERAL DUTY OF CHASTITY. 301 

that it hath been said by them of old time, thou shalt not 
commit adulteiy. But I say unto you, that whosoever 
looketh on a woman to lust after her, hath committed 
ndultery wnth her already in his heart. And if thy right 
eye offend thee (or cause thee to offend), pluck it out and 
cast it from thee ; for it is profitable for thee that one of 
thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body 
should be cast into hell." Matt, v, 27 — 32. That is, as 
1 suppose, eradicate from your bosom every impure thought, 
no matter at what sacrifice ; for no one who cherishes 
impurity, even in thought, can be an inheritor of the 
Idngdom of heaven. 

Uncleanness is also frequently enumerated among the 
crimes which exclude men from the kingdom of heaven : 

Ephesians v, 5, 6 : " No whoremonger or unclean 
person hath any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and 
God." 

Galatians v, 19 — 21 : " Now, the works of the flesh 
are manifest, which are these : adultery, fornication, un- 
cleanness, lasciviousness ; of the which I tell you before, 
as I have told you in times past, that they which do such 
things shall not inherit the kingdom of God." 

Colossians iii, 5, 6 : " Mortify, therefore, your members, 
which are upon the earth : fornication, uncleanness, inor- 
dihate affections ; for which things' sake, the wrath of God 
cometh upon the children of disobedience." 

Let every one remember, therefore, that whoever vio- 
lates this command, violates it in defiance of the most 
clearly revealed command of God, and at the peril of his 
own soul. He must meet his act, and the consequences 
of it, at that day when the secrets of all hearts are made 
manifest, when every hidden thing will be brought to light, 
and when God will judge every man according to his 
deeds. 

I remarked above, that the law of chastity forbade the 
indulgence of impure or lascivious imaginations, the har- 
boring of such thoughts -in our minds, or the doing of any 
thing by ^hich such thoughts should be excited. Of no 
vice is It so true as of this, that " lust, when it is cherished, 
bringeth forth sin ; and sin, when it is finished, bringeth 
26 



30S THE GENERAL DUTY OF CHASTITY. 

forth death." Licentiousness in outward conduct neve* 
appears, until the mind has become defiled by unpure 
imaginations. When, however, the mind has become thus 
defiled, nothing is wanted but suitable opportunity to com- 
plete the moral catastrophe. Hence, the necessity of the 
most intense vigilance in the government of our thoughts, 
and in the avoiding of all books, and all pictures, and all 
society, and all conduct and actions of which the tendency 
is to imbue our imaginations with any thing at variance 
with the purest chastity. Whatever, in other respects, 
may be the fascinations of a book, if it be impure or las- 
civious, let it be eschewed. Whatever be the accomplish- 
ments of an acquaintance, if he or she be licentious in con- 
versation or action, let him or her be shunned. No man 
can take fire in his bosom, and his clothes not be burned. 
We cannot mmgle with the vile, let that vileness be dressed 
in ever so tastefiil a garb, without becoming defiled. The 
only rule of safety is, to avoid the appearance of evil; for 
thus alone shall we be able to avoid the reality. Hence it 
is, that a licentious theatre (and the tendency of all 
theatres is to licentiousness), immodest dancing, and all 
amusements and actions which tend to inflame the passions, 
are horribly pernicious to morals. It would be interesting 
to leam on what principle of morals a virtuous woman 
would justify her attendance upon an amusement, in which 
she beholds before her a once lovely female uttering covert 
obscenity in the presence of thousands, and where she is 
surrounded by hundreds of women, also once lovely, but 
now abandoned, whose ruin has been consummated by 
this very means, and who assemble in this place, with the 
more certain assurance of thus being able, most success- 
fully, to effect the ruin of others. 



303 



CHAPTER SECOND. 

THE LAW OF MARRIAGE. 

It has been already remarked, in the preceding section, 
that the law of chastity forbids all sexual intercourse be- 
tween persons who have not been exclusively united for 
life. In the act of marriage, two persons, under the most 
solemn circumstances, are thus united ; and they enter 
into a mutual contract thus to live in respect to each other 
This relation having been estabhshed by God, the contract 
thus entered into has all the solemnity of an oath. Hence 
he who violates it is guilty of a two-fold crime : first, the 
violation of the law of chastity ; and, secondly, of the 
law of veracity, — a veracity pledged under the most solemn 
circumstances. 

But this is by no means all that is intended by the in- 
stitution of marriage. By the contract thus entered into, 
a society is formed, of a most interesting and important 
character, which is the origin of all civil society ; and in 
which, children are prepared to become members of that 
great community. As our principal knowledge of the 
nature and obhgations of this institution is derived from the 
sacred Scriptures, I shall endeavor briefly to explain the 
manner in which they treat of it, without adding any thing 
to what I have already said, in regard to the teaclung of 
natural rehgion. 

I shall consider, first, the nature of this contract, and, 
secondly, the duties which it enjoins, and the crimes which 
it lorbids. 

First. The nature of the contract. 

1. The contract is for hfe, ar J is dissoluble for one cause 
only, — the cause of whoredom : 

Matthew xix, 3 — 6, 9. "Then came some of the 
Pharisees to him, and, tempting him. asked, Can a man, 



304 THE LAW O*' MARRIAGE. 

upon every pretence, divorce his wife? He answered, 
Havp ye not read, that at the beginning, when the Crea 
tor made man, he fonned a male and female ; and said, 
for this cause shall a man leave father and mother, and 
adhere to his wife ; and they two shall be one flesh. 
Wherefore, they are no longer two, but one flesh. What then 
God hath conjoined, let not man separate. Wherefore, I 
say unto you, whosoever divorceth his wife, except for 
whoredom, and marrieth another, committeth adultery." 
I use here the translation of Dr. Campbell, which, I think, 
conveys more exactly than the common version the mean- 
ing of the original. 

2. We are here taught that marriage, being an institu- 
tion of God, is subject to his laws alone, and not to the 
laws of man. Hence the civil law is binding upon the 
conscience only in so far as it corresponds to the law of 
God. 

3. This contract is essentially mutual. By entering 
mto it^ the members form a society, that is, they have some- 
thing m common. Whatever is thus in common, belongs 
equally to both. And, on the contrary, what is not thus 
surrendered, remains as before in the power of the indi- 
vidual. 

4. The basis of this union is affection. Individuals thus 
contract themselves to each other, on the ground not 
merely of mutual regard, but also of a regard stronger than 
that which they entertain for any other persons else. If 
such be not the condition of the parties, they cannot be 
united with any fair prospect of happiness. Now, such is the 
nature of the human affections, that we derive a higher and 
a purer pleasure from rendering happy those whom we love 
than from self-gratification. Thus, a parent prefers self- 
denial, for the sake of a child, to self-indulgence. The 
same principle is illustrated in every case of pure and dis- 
interested benevolence. This is the essential element, on 
which depends the happiness of the married state. To be 
in the highest degree happy, we must each prefer the hap- 
piness of another to our own. 

5. I have mentioned above, that, this being a voluntary 
compact, and forming a peculiar society, there are some 



THE LAW OF MARRIAGE. 305 

things which, by tliis compact, each surrenders to the other, 
and also other tilings which are not surrendered. It is im- 
portant that these he distinguished from each other. 
1 remark, then, — 

a. Neither party suiTendei-s to the other any control over 
any thing appertaining to the conscience. From the nature 
of our moral constitution, nothing of this sort can be surren- 
dered to any created being. For either party to interfere 
w^ith the discharge of those duties, whicii the other party 
really supposes itself to owe to God, is therefore wicked 
and oppressive. 

b. Neither parly surrenders to the other any thing which 
would violate prior and lawful obligations. Thus, a hus- 
band does not promise to subject his professional pursuits 
to the will of his wife. He has chosen his profession, and, 
if he pursue it lawfully, it does not interfere with the con- 
tract. So, also, his duties as a citizen, are of prior obliga- 
tion ; and, if they really interfere with any others, those 
subsequently formed must be construed in subjection to 
them. Thus, also, the filial duties of both parties remain, 
in some respects, unchanged after maiTiage, and the 
marriage contract should not be so interpreted as to violate 
ihem. 

c. On the other hand, I suppose that the marriage contract 
binds each party, whenever individual gratification is con- 
cerned, to prefer the happiness of the other party to its 
own. If pleasure can be enjoyed by both, the happiness 
of both is increased by enjoying it in common. If it can 
be enjoyed but by one, each should prefer that it be enjoyed 
by the other. And if there be sorrow to be endured, or 
inconvenience to be suffered, each should desire, if possible, 
to bear the infliction for the sake of shielding the other 
from pain. 

d. And, as I have remarked before, the disposition to do 
this arises from the very nature of the principles on which 
the compact is fonned, from unreserved affection. This is 
the very manner in which affection always displays itself. 
This is the very means by which affection is created 
" She loved me for the dangers I had seen, and I loved 
her that she did pity them." — Shakspeare. And this is 

26* 



306 THE LAW OF MARRIAGE. 

the only course of conduct by which affection can be i-e- 
tained. And the manifestation of this temper is, under all 
circumstances, obligatory upon both partfes. 

6. As, however, in all societies, there may be differences 
of opinion, even where the harmony of feeling remains un- 
impaired, so there may be differences here. Where such 
differences of opinion exist, there must be some ultimate 
appeal. In ordinary societies, such questions are settled 
by a numerical majority. But as, in this case, such a decis- 
ion is impossible, some other principle must be adopted. 
The right of deciding must rest with either the one or the 
other. As the husband is the individual who is responsible 
to civil society, as his intercourse with the world is of 
necessity greater, the voice of nature and of revelation 
unite in conferring the right of ultimate authority upon him. 
By this an'angement the happiness of the wife is increased 
no less than that of the husband. Her power is always 
greatest in concession. She is graceful and attractive 
while meek and gentle ; but when angered and turbulent, 
she loses the fascination of her own sex, without attaining 
to the dignity of the other. 

" A woman moved is like a fountain troubled, 
Muddy, ill-seeming, and bereft of beauty." Shaks. 

Secondly. I come now to speak of the duties imposed by 
the marriage relation. 

I. The mamage relation imposes upon both parties, 
equally, the duty of chastity. 

1. Hence it forbids adultery, or intercourse with any 
other person than that one to whom the individual is united 
in marriage. 

2. And, hence, it forbids all conduct in married persons, 
or with married persons, of which the tendency would be 
to diminish their affection for those to whom they are united 
in marriage, or of which the tendency would be to give 
pain to the other party. This is evident fi'om what we 
have before said. For, if the contract itself proceed upon 
the principle of entire and exclusive affection, any thing 
must be a violation of it, which destroys or lessens that 
affection ; and that which causes this affection to be doubted, 



THE LAW OF MARRIAGE. 307 

produces to the party in which the doubt exists, the same 
misery that would ensue from actual injury. 

The crime of adultery is of an exceedingly aggravated 
nature. As has been before remarked, aside from being a 
violation of the law of chastity, it is also a violation of a 
most solemn contract. The misery which it inflicts upon 
parents and childi'en, relatives and friends, the total anni- 
hilation of domestic happiness, and the total disruption of 
parental and filial ties which it necessarily produces, mark 
it for one of the basest forms of human atrocity. Hence, 
as might be expected, it is spoken of in the Scriptures as 
one of those crimes on which God has set the seal of his 
peculiar displeasure. In addition to the passages already 
quoted on this subject, I barely mention the following : 

Matthew V, 28. " Whosoever looketh on a woman to 
cherish impure desire, hath committed adultery with her 
already in his heart." Hebrews xiii, 4. "Marriage is 
honorable in all, and the bed undefiled ; out whoremongers 
and adulterers God will judge." Revelations xxi, 8. 
" Murderers and the lascivious shall have then* part in the 
lake that bumeth with fire and brimstone, which is the 
second death." Throughout the writings of the prophets, 
in numberless instances, this crime is singled out, as one for 
which God visits with the most awful judgments, both 
nations and individuals. And, if any one will reflect that 
the happiness and prosperity of a country must depend on 
the virtue of the domestic society more than on any thing 
else, he cannot fail to perceive that a crime, which, by a 
single act, sunders the conjugal tie, and leaves children 
woi-se than parentless, must be attended with more abun- 
dant and remediless evils, than almost any other that can 
be named. The taking of human life can be attended with 
iio consequences more dreadful. In the one case, the 
parental tie is broken, but the victim is innocent ; in the 
other, the tie is broken, vvath the additional aggravation of 
an irretrievable moral stain, and a wide-spreading dishonor 
that cannot be washed away. 

II. The law of marriage enforces the duty of mutual 
affection. 

Affection towards another is the result of his or her actions 



308 THE LAW OF MARRIAGE. 

and temper towards us. Admiration and respecl may be 
the result of other manifestations of character, but nothing 
is so Hkely, as evidence of affection towards ourselves, to 
produce in us affection towards others. 

Hence the duty of cultivating affection, imposes upon 
each party the obligation to act in such manner as to excite 
affection in the bosom of the other. The rule is, " As ye 
would that others should do unto (or be affected towards) 
you, do ye even so unto (or be ye so affected towards) 
them." And the other gospel rule is here also verified : 
" Give, audit shall be given unto you, good measure, pressed 
down, and heaped together, and running over, shall men give 
into your bosom." To cultivate affection, then, is not to 
strive to excite it by any direct effort of abstract thinking, but 
to show, by the whole tenor of a life of disinterested goodness, 
that our happiness is really promoted by seekmg the hap- 
piness of another. It consists in restraining our passions, in 
subduing our selfishness, in quieting our irritability, in erad- 
icating from our minds every thing which could give pain 
to an ingenuous spirit, and in cherishing a spirit of meekness, 
forbearance, forgiveness, and of active, cheerful, and inces- 
sant desire for the happiness of those whom we love. At 
no less price than this can affection be purchased ; and 
those who are willing to purchase it at this price, will rarely 
have reason to complain of the want of it. 

III. The law of marriage imposes the duty of mutual 
assistance. 

In the domestic society, as in every other, there are 
special duties devolving upon each member ; this is no 
more than to say that it is not the duty of every member 
of a society to do every thing. So here, there are duties 
devolving of right upon the husband, and other duties de- 
volving of right upon the wife. Thus, it is the duty, in the 
first instance, of the husband, to provide for the wants of the 
family ; and of the wife to assume the charge of the affairs 
of the household. His sphere of duty is without, her sphere 
of duty is within. Both are under obligation to discharge 
these duties, specially because they are parties to this par- 
ticular compact. The Apostle Paul affirms, that he w.ho 
does not provide for his own, specially for those of his own 



THE LAW OF MARRIAGE. 309 

house, hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel. 
That man is worthily despised, who does not quaUfy himself 
to support that family, of which he has voluntarily assumed 
the office of protector. Nor surely is that woman less de- 
serving of contempt, who, having consumed the period of 
youth in frivolous reading, dissipating amusement, and in 
the acquisition of accomplishments, which are to be con- 
signed, immediately after marriage, to entire forgetHilness, 
entei-s upon the duties of a wife, with no other expectation, 
than that of being a useless and prodigal appendage to a 
household, ignorant of her duties, and of the manner of 
discharging them ; and with no other conceptions of the 
responsibilities which she has assumed, than such as have 
been acquired from a life of childish caprice, luxurious self- 
indulgence, and sensitive, feminine, yet thoroughly finished 
selfishness. And yet I fear that the system of female edu- 
cation, at present in vogue, is, in many respects, liable to 
ihe accusation of producing precisely this tendency. 

I have remarked, that the duties of the husband and 
wife are thus, in the fii'st instance, apportioned. Yet, if 
one be disabled, all that portion of the duty of the disabled 
party, which the other can discharge, falls upon that other. 
If the huoband cannot alone support the family, it is the 
duty of the wife to assist him. If the wife is, through 
sickness, unable to direct her household, the husband is 
Dound, m so far as it is possible, to assume her care. In 
case of the death of either, the whole care of the children 
devolves upon the survivor ; nor has the survivor a right to 
devolve it upon another pei-son, if he or she can discharge 
it alone. 

IV. The law of marriage, both from Scripture and from 
reason, makes the husband the head of the domestic so- 
ciety. Hence, when difference of opinion exists (except 
as stated above, where a paramount obligation binds), the 
decision of the husband is ultimate. Hence the duty of 
the wife is submission and obedience. The husband, how- 
ever, has no more right than the wife to act unjustly, op- 
pressively, or unkindly ; nor is the fact of his possessing 
authority in the least an excuse for so acting. But as 
differences of opinion are always liable to exist, and as, b 



310 THE LAW OF MARRIAGE. 

such case, one or the other party must yield, to avoid the 
greatest of all evils in such a society, — continual dissension, 
— the duty of yielding devolves upon the wife. And it is 
to be remembered, that the act of submission is, in every 
respect, as dignified and as lovely as the act of authority ; 
nay, more, it involves an element of virtue which does not 
belong to the other. It supposes neither superior excel- 
lence nor superior mind in the party which governs ; but 
merely an official relation, held for the mutual good of both 
parties and of their children. The teaching of Scripture 
on this subject is explicit ; see 1 Peter iii, 1 — 7 : " Like- 
wise, ye wives, be in subjection to your own husbands, that 
if any obey not the word, they also may, without the word, 
be won by the conversation of the wives ; while they behold 
your chaste conversation united with respect. Whose 
adorning, let it not be that outward adorning of plaiting 
the hair, and of wearing of gold, and of putting on of ap- 
parel ; but let it be the imvard disposition of the mind, 
which is not corruptible, even the ornament of a meeh: and 
quiet spirit, which is, in the sight of God, of great price. 
Likewise, ye husbands, dwell with your wives according to 
knowledge, as with the weaker party ; rendering respect to 
them, as heirs with you of the grace of life." That is, if 1 
understand the passage, conduct towards them, as knowing 
that they are weak ; that is, needing support and protec- 
tion ; and, at the same time, rendering them all that respect 
which is due to those who are, as much as yourselves, heirs 
to a blessed immortality. A more beautiful exhibition of 
the duties of the marriage relation cannot be imagined. 

I shall close this chapter with the following well known 
extract from a poet, whose purity of character and exquisite 
sensibility have done more than any other in our language, 
to clothe virtue in her own native attractiveness : 



Domestic happiness, thou only h\\ss 
Of Paradise, that has survived the fall ! 
Though few now taste thee unimpaired and pure, 
Or, tasting, long enjoy thee ! too infirm. 
Or too incautious, to preserve thy sweets 
Unmixed with drops of bitter, which neglect 
Or temper sheds into thy crystal cup : 
Thou art the nurse of virtue ; in thine arms 



THE LAW OF MARRIAGE. 311 

She smiles, appearing, as in truth she is, 
Heaven-born, and destined to the skies again. 
Thou art not known where pleasure is adored, — 
That reeling goddess, with her zoneless waist 
And wandering eyes, still leaning on the arm 
Of novelty, her fickle, frail support; 
For thou art meek and constant, liating change, 
And finding in the calm of truth-tried love, 
Joys wiiich her stormy rapture never yields. 
Forsaking thee, what shipwreck have we seea. 
Of honor, dignity, and fair renown ! 
'TiJl prostitution elbows us aside 
In all our crowded streets. Task. 



CHAPTER THIRD. 

THE LAW OF PARENTS. 

The adaptation of the physical and moral laws under 
which man is placed, to the promotion of human happiness, 
IS f>eautifully illustrated in the relation which exists between 
the law of marriage and the law of parent and child. 
Wrre the physical or moral conditions of marriage different 
m .iny respect from those which exist, the evils which would 
ensue would be innumerable. And, on the contrary, by 
accurately observing these conditions, we shall see that 
they not only contain a provision for the well-being of suc- 
cessive generations, but also establish a tendency to in- 
definite social progress. 

For instance, we see that mankind are incapable of sus- 
taining the relation of parent until they have arrived at the- 
age of maturity, attained to considerable knowledge and 
exp^erience, and become capable of such labor as will en- 
able them to support and protect their offspring. Were 
this otherwise, were children liable to become parents — 
parent and child growing up together in physical and intel- 
lectual imbecility — the progress of man in vntue and knowl- 
edge would be impossible, even if the whole race did not 
perish from want and disease. 

Again, the parent is endowed with a love of his offspring, 
whicti renders it a pleasure to him to contribute to its wel- 
fare, and to give it, by every means in his power, the ben- 
efit of his own experience. And, on the contrary, there is 
in the child, if not a correspondent love of the parent, a 
disposition to submit to the parent's wishes, and to yield 
(unless its instincts have been mismanaged) to his authority. 
Were either of these dispositions wanting, it is evident that 
the whole social system would be disarranged, and incalcu- 
lable misery entailed upon our race. 



THE LAW OF PARENTS. 313 

Again, it is evident that civil society is constituteQ by 
the surrender of the individual's personal desu'es and pro- 
pensities to the good of the whole. It of course involves 
the necessity of self-restraint — that is, of habitual self-gov- 
ernment. Now, in this point of view, the domestic society 
is designed to be, as has been frequently remarked, the 
nurseiy for the state. 

Thus, the parent being of an age and having experience 
sufficient to control and direct the child, and being instinc- 
tively impelled to exert this control for the child's benefit ; 
and the child being instinctively disposed to yield to his 
authority, when judiciously exerted ; the child grows up 
under a system in which he yields to the will of another, 
and thus he learns at home to submit to the laws of that 
society of which he is soon to become a member. And 
hence it is that the relaxation of parental authority has 
always been found one of the surest indications of the de- 
cline of social order, and the unfailing precursor of public 
turbulence and anarchy. 

But still more, it is a common remark, that childi'en are 
influenced by example more readily than by any other 
means. Now, by the man-iage constitution, this principle 
of human nature is employed as an instmment of the great- 
est possible good. We stated that the basis of the mar- 
riage covenant is affection, and that it supposes each party 
to prefer the happiness of the other to its own. While the 
domestic society is governed by this principle, it presents 
to the children a continual example of disinterestedness and 
self-denial, and of the happiness which results from the 
exercise of these virtues. And yet more, the affection of 
the parents prompts them to the exercise of the same virtues 
m behalf of their children ; and, hence, the latter have 
before their eyes a constantly operating motive to the culti- 
vation of these very dispositions. And, lastly, as the duty 
of the wife is submission, children are thus taught, by the 
example of one whom they respect and love, that submis- 
sion is both graceful and dignified ; and that it in no man- 
ner involves the idea of baseness or servility. 

1. From these considerations, we learn the relation 
which exists, by nature, between parents and children. It 
27 



314 THE LAW OF PARENTS. 

is the relation of a superior to an inferior. The right of 
the parent is to command ; the duty of the child is to obey 
Authority belongs to the one, submission to the other. 
This relation is a part of our constitution, and the obligation 
which arises from it is, accordingly, a part of our duty. It 
is not a mere matter of convenience or of expediency, but 
it belongs to the relations under which we are created ; and 
to the violation of it, our Creator has affixed peculiar and 
afflicting penalties. 

2. While this is the relation, yet the motive whicli 
should govern the obhgation, on both sides, is affection. 
While the authority to command rests with the parent, and 
the duty of submission is imposed upon the child, yet the 
parent is not at liberty to exercise this authority from caprice, 
or from love of power, or for his own advantage, but from 
simple love to the child, and for the child's advantage. 
The constitution under which we are placed, renders it ne- 
cessary that the parent should exercise this power ; but that 
parent abuses it, that is, he uses it for purposes for which 
it was not conferred, if he exercise it from any other motive 
than duty to God, and love to his offspring. 

3. This relation being established by our Creator, and 
the obligations consequent upon it being binding upon both 
parties, the failure in one party does not annihilate the ob- 
ligations of the other. If a child be disobedient, the parent 
is still under obligation to act towards it for its own good, 
and not to exert his authority for any other purpose. If a 
parent be unreasonable, this does not release the child ; he 
is still bound to honor, and obey, and reverence his parent. 

The duty of parents is, then, generally, to educate, or to 
bring up, their children in such a manner as they believe 
will be most for their future happiness, both temporal and 
eternal. 

This comprehends several particulars : 

I. Support, or maintenance. 

That it is the duty of the parents to keep alive the help- 
less being whom they have brought into existence, need not 
be provea. As to the expensiveness of this maintenance, 
I do not know that any thing very definite can be asserted. 
The general rule would seem to be, that the mode of life 



I 



THE LAW OF PARENTS. 315 

adopted by the parent, would be that which he is required 
to provide for the child. This, however, would be modified 
by some cii'cumstances. If a parent of large wealth brought 
up his family in meanness and ignorance, so that they would 
be specially unfitted for the opulence which they were 
hereafter to enjoy, he would act unjustly. He is voluntarily 
placing them in circumstances of great temptation. So, on 
the other hand, if a parent, destitute of means to render his 
children independent of labor, brings them up, whether male 
or female, in idleness and expensiveness, he violates his 
duty as a parent ; he is preparing them for a life, not of 
happiness, but of discontent, imbecility and misery. The 
latter, owing to the natural weakness of parental affection, 
is, by far, the most common error, and is liable to become 
pecuharly prevalent in the social condition of this country. 

II. Education. 

1. Physical education. A parent is under obligation to 
use all the means in his power to secure to his children a good 
physical constitution. It is his duty to prescribe such food, 
and in such quantity, as will best conduce to their health ; to 
regulate their labor_ and exercise, so as fliUy to develop 
all the powders, and call into exercise all the functions, of 
their physical system ; to accustom them to hardship, and 
render them patient of labor. Every one knows how 
greatly the happmess of a human being depends upon early 
physical discipline ; and it is manifest that this discipline 
can be enforced by no one but a parent, or by one who 
stands in the place of a parent. 

By the same rule, we see the wickedness of those parents 
who employ theii" children in such service, or obhge them 
to labor in such manner, as will expose them to sickness, 
infimiity, disease, and premature death. In many manu 
factuiing countries, children are forced to labor before they 
are able to endure confinement and fatigue, or to labor vastly 
beyond their strength ; so that the vigor of their constitution 
is destroyed even in infancy. The power of the parent 
over the child, was given for the child's good, and neither 
to gratify the parent's selfishness, nor to minister to his love 
of gain. It is not improper to add, that the guilt and the 
shame of this abuse of the rights of dhildi'en, are equally 



316 THE LAW OF PARENTS. 

shared between the parent who thus sells his child's health 
and life for gold, and the heartless agent who thus profits 
by his wickedness. Nor is this fonn of violation of parental 
ol)ligation confined to any one class of society. The am- 
bitious mother, who, for the sake of her own elevation, or 
the aggrandizement of her family, and without any respect 
to the happiness of her child, educates her daughter m all 
the trickery of fashionable fascination, dwarfing her mind, 
and sensualizing her aspirations, for the chance of negotiating 
for her a profitable match, regardless of the character or 
habits of him to whom she is to be united for life, falls under 
precisely the same condemnation. 

2. Intellectual education. A child enters into the world 
utterly ignorant, and possessed of nothing else than a col- 
lection of impulses and capabilities. It can be happy and 
useful only as this ignorance is dispelled by education, and 
these impulses and capabilities are directed and enlarged 
by discipline and cultivation. To some knowledge and 
discipline the parent has, from the necessity of the case, 
attained ; and, at least, so much as this he is bound to com- 
municate to his children. In some respects, however, this 
duty can be discharged more effectively by others than by 
the parent ; and it may, therefore, very properly, be thus 
devolved upon a teacher. The parental obligation re- 
quires that it be done either by a parent himself, or that 
he procure it to be done by another. 

I have said that it can, in part, be discharged by the 
teacher. But, let it be remembered, it can be done only in 
part. The teacher is only the agent ; the parent is the 
principal. The teacher does not remove fi-om the parent 
any of the responsibility of his relation. Several duties 
devolve upon the one, which cannot be rightfully devolved 
upon the other. 

For instance, — 

1. He is bound to inform himself of the peculiar habits, 
and reflect upon the probable future situation, of his child, 
and deliberately to consider what sort of education will 
most conduce to his future happiness and usefulness. 

2. He is bound to select such instructors as will best accom- 
plish the results which he believes will be most beneficial. 



THE LAW OF PARENTS. 317 

3. He IS bound to devote such time and attention to the 
subject, as will enable him to ascertain whether the in- 
structor of his child discharges his duty with faithfulness. 

4. To encourage his child, by manifesting such interest 
in his studies as shall give to diligence and assiduity all the 
assistance and benefit of parental authority and friendship. 

5. And, if a parent be under obligation to do tliis, he is, 
of coui-se, under obligation to take time to do it, and so to 
construct the arrangements of his family and business, that 
it may he done. He has no right to say that he has no 
time for these duties. If God have required them of him, 
as is the fact, he has time exactly for them; and the truth 
is, he has not time for those other occupations which inter- 
fere with them. If he neglect them, he does it to the in- 
jury of his children, and, as he will ascertain when it shall 
De too late, to his own disappointment and misery^ 

Nor let it be supposed that this will ever be done with- 
out bringing with it its own reward. God has always con- 
nected together, indissolubly, our own personal benefit and 
the discharge of every duty. Thus, in the present case, a 
parent who assiduously follows his children throughout the 
various steps of their education, will find his own knowl- 
edge increased, and his own education carried forward, 
vastly beyond what he would at first have conceived. 
There are very few things which a child ought to learn, 
from the study of which an adult will not derive great 
advantage, especially if he go through the process of sim- 
plification and analysis, which are so necessary in order to 
communicate knowledge to the mind of the young. And 
yet more. It is only thus that the parent will be able to 
retain that intellectual superiority which it is so much^ for 
the interest of both parties that he should, for a long time, 
at least, possess. It is an unfortunate circumstance, for a 
child to suppose that he knows more than his parent ; and, 
if his supposition be true, he will not be slow to entertain 
it. The longer the parent maintain his superiority in 
Knowledge and wisdom, the better will it be for both parties. 
But this superiority cannot be retained, if, as soon as the 
parent enters upon active business, he desist from all effort 
after intellectual cultivation, and surrenders himself a slave 
27 * 



318 THE LAW OF PARENTS. 

to physical labor, while he devotes his child to mere intel- 
lectual cultivation, and thus renders intellectual intercourse 
between himself and his children almost impossible. 

3. Moral education. 

The eternal destiny of the child is placed, in a most 
important sense, in the hands of its parents. The parent 
is under obligation to instruct, and cause his child to be 
instructed, in those religious sentiments which he believes 
to be according to the will of God. With his duty in this 
respect, until the child becomes able to decide for himself, 
no one has a right to interfere. If the parent be in error, 
the fault is not in teaching the child what he beheves, but 
in believing what is false, without having used the means 
which God has given him to arrive at the truth. But, if 
such be the responsibility, and so exclusive the authority 
of the parent, it is manifest that he is under a double obli- 
gation to ascertain what is the will of God, and in what 
manner the future happiness of an immortal soul may be 
secured. As soon as he becomes a parent, his decisions on 
this subject involve the future happiness or misery, not only 
of his own soul, but also of that of another. Both con- 
siderations, therefore, impose upon him the obligation of 
coming to a serious and solemn decision upon his moral 
condition and prospects. 

But, besides that of making himself acquainted with the 
doctrines of religion, the relation in which he stands im- 
poses upon the parent several other duties. 

It is his duty, — 

1. To teach his child its duties to God and to man, and 
produce in its mind a permanent conviction of its moral 
responsibility. This is to be done, not merely by direct, 
but also by indirect, precept ; and by directing it to such 
trains of observation and reflection as shall create a correct 
moral estimate of actions and of their consequences. And 
specially should it be the constant effort of the parent to 
cultivate in his child a spirit of piety, or a right feeling 
towards God, the tme source of every other virtue. 

2. Inasmuch as the present state of man is morally im 
perfect, and every individual is a sharer in that imperfec- 
tion, it is the duty of the parent to eradicate, so far as is b 



THE LAW OF PARENTS. 319 

his power, the wrong propensities of his childi-en. He 
should watch, with ceaseless vigilance, for the first appear- 
ances of pride, obstinacy, malice, envy, vanity, cruelty, 
revenge, anger, lying, and then- kindred vices ; and, by 
steadfast and unwearied assiduity, strive to extirpate them 
before they have gained nnnness by age, or vigor by in- 
dulgence. There cannot be a greater unkindness to a 
child, than to allow it to grow up with any of its e\dl habits 
uncorrected. Every one would consider a parent cruel, 
who allowed a child to grow up without having taken 
means to cure a limb which had been broken ; but how 
much worse is an evil temper than a broken limb ! 

3. Inasmuch as precept will be of no avail without a 
correspondent example, a parent is under obligation, not 
only to set no example by which the evil dispositions of 
his child will be cherished, but to set such an example as 
will be most lil^ely to remove them. A passionate, selfish, 
envious man must expect that, in spite of all his precepts, 
liis children will be passionate, envious, and selfish. 

4. Inasmuch as all our efforts will be fruitless without 
the blessing of God, that parent must be convicted of 
great neglect of duty, who does not habitually pray for 
that du'ection which he needs in the performance of these 
solemn obhgations ; as well as for that blessing upon his 
eiForts, without which, though ever so well directed, they 
will be utterly in vain. 

5. Inasmuch as the moral character of the child is 
greatly influenced by its associations and companions, it 
is the duty of the parent to watch over these with vigi- 
lance, and to control them with entire independence. 
He is false to his tmst, if, for the sake of gratifying the 
desires of his child, or of concihating the favor of others, 
or avoiding the reputation of singularity or preciseness, he 
allow his child to form associations which he believes, or 
even fears, will be injurious to him. And, on the other 
hand, if such be the duty of the parent, he ought to be con- 
sidered as fully at liberty to perform it, without remark, and 
without offence. In such matters, he is the ultimate and the 
only responsible authority. He who reproaches another for 



320 THE LAW OF PARENTS. 

the exercise of this authority, is guiky of slander. He who, 
from the fear of slander, shrinks from exercising it, is justly 
chargeable with a pusillanimity wholly unworthy of the rela- 
tion which he sustains. 

6. As the parent sustains the same relation to all his 
children, it is manifest that his obligations to them all are 
the same. Hence, he is bom d to exercise his authority 
with entire impartiality. The want of this must always 
end in jealousy, envy, and malice, and cannot fail to render 
the domestic society a scene of perpetual bickering and 
contention. A striking exemplification of all this is recorded 
in the history of Joseph and his brethren. 

If this be so, it is evident that the violation of parental 
obligation is more common, among even indulgent parents, 
than would generally be supposed. 

1. Parents who render themselves slaves to fashiona- 
ble society and amusement, violate this obligation. The 
mother who is engaged in a perpetual round of visiting and 
company, and who, from the pressure of engagements to 
which she subjects herself, has no leisure to devote to the 
mental and moral culture of her children, violates her most 
solemn duties. She has no right to squander away, in 
frivolous self-gratification, the time which belongs to her 
offspring. She will reap the fruits of her folly, when, in a 
few years, her children, having grown up estranged from her 
affection, shall thwart her wishes, disappoint her hopes, and 
neglect, if they do not despise, the mother who bare them. 

2. The father who plunges into business so deeply that 
he has no leisure for domestic duties and pleasures, and 
whose only intercourse with his children consists in a brief 
and occasional word of authority, or a surly lamentation 
over their intolerable expensiveness, is equally to be pitied 
and to be blamed. What right has he to devote to other 
pursuits the time which God has allotted to his cnildren ? 
Nor is it any excuse, to say that he cannot support his 
family in their present style of living, without this effort. I 
ask. By what right can his family demand to live in a man- 
ner which requires him to neglect his most solemn and 
important duties? Nor is it an excuse, to say that he 



THE LAW OF PARENTS. 321 

wi^fies to leave them a competence. Is he under obligation 
to leave them that competence which he desires ? Is it an 
advantage to them to be relieved from the necessity of 
labor? Besides, is money the only desirable bequest 
which a father can leave to liis children ? Surely, well 
cultivated intellects, hearts sensible to domestic affection, 
the love of parents and brethren and sisters, a taste for 
home pleasures, habits of order, regularity and industry, a 
hatred of vice and of vicious men, and a lively sensibility 
to the excellence of virtue, are as valuable a legacy as an 
inheiitance of property, simple property, purchased by the 
loss of every habit which could render that property a 
blessing. 

3. Nor can thoughtful men be always exculpated from 
the charge of this violation. The duties of a parent are 
established by God, and God requires us not to violate 
them. While the social worship of God is a duty, it ought 
not to interfere with parental duty. Parents who spend 
that tiiTie which helongs to their children, in offices of public 
social worship, have mistaken the nature of their special 
obligation. I do not pretend to say what time, or how 
much time, any individual shall spend in any religious 
service. This question does not belong to the present dis- 
cussion. But I say that this time must be taken out of that 
which belongs to ourselves ; and it might easily be abstracted 
from that devoted to \'isiting, company, or idleness ; it 
should not be taken from that which belongs, by the 
ordinance of God, to our children. 

It will be easily seen, that the fulfilment of these obliga- 
tions, in the manner I have suggested, would work a very 
perceptible change in the whole fabric of society. It would 
check the eager desire of accumulation, repress the ardor 
of ambition, and allay the feverish thirst for selfish gi'atifica- 
tion. But it would render a family, in truth, a society. It 
would bring back parents and children to the relations to 
each other which God has established. It would restore to 
home a meaning, and to the pleasures of home a reality, 
which they are in danger of losing altogether. Forsaking 
the shadow of happiness, we should find the substance. 
Listead of a continual round of physical excitation, and the 



J22 THE LAW OF PARENTS. 

ceaseless pursuit of pleasures which, as every one confesses, 
end in ennui and disappointment, we should secure 

" A sacred and home-felt delight, 
A sober certainty of waking bliss," 

Nof which, previously, we could have had no conception. 

The Rights of Parents. 

The right of the parent over his child is, of course, com 
mensurate with his duties. If he be under obligation to 
educate his child in such manner as he supposes will most 
conduce to the child's happiness and the welfare of society, 
he has, from necessity, the right to control the child in 
every thing necessary to the fulfilment of this obligation. 
The only limits imposed are, that he exert this control no 
further than is necessary to the flilfilment of his obligation, 
and that he exert it with the intention for which it was 
conferred. While he discharges his parental duties within 
these limits, he is, by the law of God, exempt from inter- 
ference both from the individual and from society. 

Of the duration of this ohligation and this right. 

1. In infancy, the control of the parent over the child 
is absolute ; that is, it is exercised without any respect 
whatever to the wishes of the child. 

2. When the child has anived at majority, and has 
assumed the responsibility of its own conduct, both the 
responsibility and the right of the parent cease altogether. 

The time of majority is fixed in most civilized nations 
by statute. In Great Britain and in the United States, an 
individual becomes of age at his twenty-first year. The 
law, therefore, settles the rights and obligations of the 
parties, so far as civil society is concerned, but does not 
pretend to decide upon the moral relations of the parties. 

3. As the rights and duties of the parent at one period 
are absolute, and at another cease altogether, it is reason- 
able to infer, that the control of the parent should be ex- 
ercised on more and more liberal principles, that a wider 
and wider discretion should be allowed to the child, and 
that his feelings and predilections should be more and more 
consulted, as he grows older ; so that, when he comes to 
act for himself, he may have become prepared for the 



THE LAW or PARENTS. 3^3 

responsibility which he assumes, by as extensive an experi- 
ence as the nature of the case admits. 

4. Hence, I think that a parent is bound to consuh the 
wishes of his child, in proportion to his age, whenever this 
can be done innocently ; and also, to vary his modes of 
enforcing authority, so as to adapt them to the motives of 
which the increasing intellect of the child is susceptible. 
While it is true that the treatment proper for a young man, 
would min a child, it is equally tme that the treatment 
proper for a child, might very possibly ruin a young man. 
The right of control, however, still rests with the parent, 
and the duty of obedience still is imposed upon the child. 
The parent is merely bound to exercise it in a manner 
suited to the nature of the being over whom it is to be 
exerted. 

The authority of instructors is a delegated authority, 
derived immediately from the parent. He, for the time 
being, stands to the pupil in loco parentis. Hence, the 
relation between him and the pupil is analogous to that 
between parent and child; that is, it is the relation of 
superiority and inferiority. The right of the instmctor is 
to command ; the obligation of the pupil is to obey. The 
right of the instructor is, however, to be exercised, as I 
before stated, when speaking of the parent, for the pupil's 
benefit. For the exercise of it, he is responsible to the 
parent, whose professional agent he is. He must use his 
own best skill and judgment, in governing and teaching 
his pupil. If he and the parent cannot agree, the con- 
nection must be dissolved. But, as he is a professional 
agent, he must use his own intellect and skill in the exer- 
cise of his own profession, and, in the use of it, he is to be 
interfered with by no one. 



2M 



CHAPTER FOURTH. 

THE LAW OF CHILDREN. 

I SHAI.L consider in this chapter the duties and the righti 
of children, and their duration. 

The Duties of Children. 

I. Obedience. By this I mean, that the relation be- 
tween parent and child obliges the latter to conform to the 
will of the former because it is his will, aside from the con- 
sideration that what is required seems to the child best or 
wisest. The only limitation to this rule is the hmitation of 
conscience. A parent has no right to require a child to do 
what it believes to be wrong ; and a child is under no ob- 
ligation, in such a case, to obey the commands of a parent. 
The child must obey God, and meekly suffer the conse- 
quences. It has even in this case no right to resist. 

The reasons of this rule are manifest. 

1. The design of the whole domestic constitution would 
be fi-ustrated without it. This design, from what has been 
already remarked, is, to enable the child to avail itself both 
of the wisdom, and knowledge, and experience, of the parent ; 
and also of that affection which prompts the parent to em- 
ploy all these for the well-being of the child. But of these 
advantages the child can never avail himself, unless he yield 
obedience to the parent's authority, until he have acquired 
that age and experience which are necessary to enable him 
to direct and to govern himself. 

2. That this is the duty of children is made apparent by 
the precepts of the Holy Scriptures : 

Exodus XX, 12. " Honor thy father and thy mother, 
that thy days may be long in the land which the Lord thy 
God giveth thee." This, as St. Paul remarks, Eph. vi, 2 
3, is the only commandment in the decalogue, to which a 
special promise is annexed 



THE LAW OF CHILDREN 325 

In the book of Proverbs no duty is more frequently incul- 
cated than this ; and of no one are the consequences of 
obedience and disobedience more fully set forth. 

A few examples may serve as a specimen : 

Proverbs \, 8, 9. " My son, keep the instruction of tliy 
father, and forsake not the law of diy mother. They shall 
be an ornament of grace (that is, a graceful ornament) unto 
thy head, and chains about thy neck." 

Proverbs vi, 20. " Keep thy father's commandment, and 
foi'sake not the law of thy mother." 

Proverbs xiii, 1. "A wise son heareth his father's 
instructions, but a scomer heareth not rebuke." 

The same duty is frequently inculcated in the New 
Testament : 

Ephesians vi, 1. "Children, obey your parents in the 
Lord, for this is right J' The meaning of the phrase, " in 
the Lord," I suppose to be, in accordance with the will of 
the Lord. 

Colossians iii, 20. " Children, obey your parents in all 
things, for this is well pleasing unto the Lord." The phrase, 
" well pleasing unto the Lord," is here of the same meaning 
as " in the Lord," above. 

The displeasure of God against those who violate this 
command, is also frequently denounced in the Scriptures : 

Deuteronomy xxvii, 16. "Cursed be he that setteth 
light by his father or his mother ; and all the people shall 
say Amen." 

Proverbs xv, 5. " A fool despiseth his father's instruc 
tions." 

Proverbs xxx, 17. "The eye that mocketh at his 
father, and despiseth to obey his mother, the ravens of the 
valley shall pluck it mit, and the young eagles shall eat it." 
That is, he shall perish by a violent death ; he shall come 
to a miserable end. 

From such passages as these, and I have selected only a 
very few from a great number that might have been quoted, 
we learn, L That the Holy Scnptures plainly inculcate 
obedience to parents as a command of God. He who is 
guilty of disobedience, therefore, violates not merely the 
command of man, but tliat also of God. And it is, there 
28 



326 THE LAW OF CHILDREN. 

fore, our duty always to urge it, and to exact it, mainly on 
this ground. 

2. That they consider obedience to parents as no indi- 
cation of meanness and servility ; but, on the contrary, as 
the most honorable and delightful exhibition of character 
that can be manifested by the young. It is a graceful 
ornament, which confers additional beauty upon that which 
was otherwise lovely. 

3. That the violation of this commandment exposes the 
transgressor to special and peculiar judgments. And, even 
without the light of revelation, I think that the observation 
of every one must convince him, that the curse of God rests 
heavily upon filial disobedience, and that his peculiar bless- 
mg follows filial obedience. And, indeed, what can be a 
surer indication of future profligacy and ruin, than that tur- 
bulent impatience of restraint, which leads a youth to follow 
the headlong impulses of passion, in preference to the 
counsels of age and experience, even when conveyed in the 
language of tender and disinterested affection ? 

II. Another duty of children to parents, is reverence. 
This is imphed in the commandment, " honor thy father 
and thy mother." By reverence, I mean that conduct and 
those sentiments which are due from an inferior to a supe- 
rior. The parent is the superior, and the child the inferior, 
by virtue of the relation which God himself has established. 
Whatever may be the rank or the attainments of the child, 
and how much soever they may be superior to those of the 
parent, these can never abrogate the previous relation 
which God has established. The child is bound to show 
deference to the parent, whenever it is possible, to evince 
that he considers him his superior ; and to perform for him 
services which he would perform for no other person. And 
let it always be remembered, that in this, there is nothing 
degrading, but every thing honorable. No more ennobling 
and dignified trait of character can be exhibited, than that 
of universal and profound filial respect. The same principle, 
carried out, would teach us universal and tender respect for 
old age, at all times, and under all circumstances. 

III. Another duty of children is filial affection, or the 
peculiar affection due from a child to a parent, because fie 



THE LAW OF CHILDREN. 327 

IS a parent. A parent may be entitled to our love, because 
he is a man, or because he is such a man, that is, possessing 
such excellences of character ; but, besides all this, and 
aside from it all, he is entitled to oui affection on account 
of the relation in which he stands to us. This imposes 
upon us the duty not only of hiding his foibles, of cover- 
ing his defects, of shielding him from misfortune, and of 
seeking his happiness by what means soever Providence 
has placed in our power, but also of performing all this, 
and all the other duties of which we have spoken, from 
love to him, because he is our parent, — a love which shall 
render such services not a burden, but a pleasure, under 
what circumstances soever it may be our duty to render 
them. 

IV. It is the duty of the child, whenever it is by the 
providence of God rendered necessary, to support his 
parent in old age. That man would deserve the reputa- 
tion of a monster, who would not cheerfully deny himself, 
m order to be able to minister to the comforts of the de- 
clining years of his parent. 

The Rights of Children. 

1. Children have a right to maintenance, and, as has 
been remarked before, a maintenance corresponding to the 
circumstances and condition of the parent. 

2. They have a right to expect that the parent will exert 
his authority, not for his own advantage, nor from caprice, 
but for the good of the child, according to his best judg- 
ment. If the parent act otherwise, he violates his duty to 
his children and to God. This, however, in no manner 
liberates the child from his obligations to his parent. 
These remain in full force, the same as before. The 
wrong of one party is no excuse for wrong in the other. 
It is the child's misfortune, but it can never be alleviated 
by domestic strife, and still less by filial disobedience and 
ni gratitude. 

Of the duration of these lights and obligations. 

1. Of obedience. The child is bound to obey the 
parent so long as he remains in a state of pupilage, that 
is, so long as the parent is responsible for his conduct, and 
he is dependent upon his parent. This period, so far a^ 



328 THE LAW OF CHILDREN. 

society is concerned, as has been remarked, is fixed, in 
most countries, by statute. Sometimes, by the consent 
of both parties, it ceases before that period ; at other times, 
it continues beyond it. With the termination of minority, 
let it occur when it will, the duty of obedience ceases. 
After this, however, the advice of the parent is entitled to 
more deference and respect than that of any other person ; 
but, as the individual now acts upon his own responsibility, 
it is only advice, since it has ceased to be authoritative. 

2. The conscience of a child becomes capable of delib- 
erate decision long before its period of pupilage ceases, 
Whenever this decision is fairly and honestly expressed, 
the parent ought not to interfere with it. It is his duty to 
strive to convince his child, if he think it to be in error ; 
but, if he cannot succeed in producing conviction, he must 
leave the child, like any other human being, to obey God 
in the manner it thinks will be most acceptable to Him. 

3. The obligation of respect and affection for parents, 
never ceases, but rather increases with advancing age. 
As the child grows older, he becomes capable of more 
disinterested affection, and of the manifestation of more 
delicate respect ; and, as the parent grows older, he feels 
more sensibly the need of attention ; and his happiness is 
more decidedly dependent upon it. As we increase in 
years, it should, therefore . be our more assiduous endeavor 
to make a suitable return to our parents for their kindness 
bestowed upon us in infancy and youth, and to manifest, 
by unremitting attention, and delicate, and heartfelt affection, 
our repentance for those acts of thoughtlessness and way- 
wardness which formerly may have grieved them. 

That a peculiar insensibility exists to the obligations of 
the parental and filial relation, is, I fear, too evident to 
need any extended illustration. The notion, that a family 
is a society, and that a society must be governed, and that 
the right and the duty of governing this society rest with 
the parent, seems to be rapidly vanishing from the minds 
of men. In the place of it, it seems to be the prevalent 
opinion, that children may grow up as they please ; and 
that the exertion of parental restraint is an infringement 
upon the personal liberty of the child. But all this will 



THE LAW OF CHILDREN. 329 

not abrogate the law of God, nor will it avert the punish- 
ments which he has connected, indissolubly, with disobe- 
dience. The parent who neglects his duty to his children, 
h sowiiig thickly, for himself and for them, the seeds of 
his future misery. He who is suffering the evil dispositions 
of his cliildren to grow up uncorrected, will find that he is 
cherishing a viper by which he himself will fii'st be stung. 
That parent who is accustoming his children to habits of 
thoughtless caprice and recldess expenditure, aad who 
stupidly smiles at the ebullitions of youthful passion, and 
the indulgence in fashionable vice, as indications of a manly 
spirit, needs no prophet to foretell, that, unless the dissolute- 
ness of his family leave him early childless, his gray hairs 
will be brought do^^^l with sorrow to the crrave. 

I remarked, at the close of the last chapter, that the 
duty of instructors was analogous to that of parents, and 
that they stood to pupils in a relation essentially 'parental. 
It is proper here to add, that a pupil stands to his instructor 
in a relation essentially filial. His duty is obedience: 
fii-st to his parent ; and, secondly, to the professional agent 
to whom he has been committed by liis parent. The 
equals, in this relation, are the parent and the instructor : 
to both of them is the pupil the inferior ; and to both is 
he under the obligation of obedience, respect and reverence. 

Now, such being the nature of the relation, it is the duty 
of the instructor to enforce obedience, and of the pupil to 
render it. It would be very easy to show, that, on the 
fulfilment of this duty on the part of the instmctor, the in- 
terests of education, and the welfare of the young, vitally 
depend. Without discipline, there can be formed no valu- 
able habit. Without it, when young persons are congre- 
gated together, far away from the restraints of domestic 
society, exposed to the allurements of ever-present tempta- 
tion, and excited by the stimulus of youthful passion, eveiy 
vicious habit must be cultivated. The young man may 
applaud the negligent and pusillanimous instructor ; but, 
when that man, no longer young, suffers the result of that 
neglect and pusillanimity, it is well if a better spirit have 
taught him to mention the name of that instructor without 
bitter execration. 

28* 



THE LAW OF CHILDREN. 

" In colleges and halls, in ancient days, 
There dwelt a sage called Discipline. 
His eye was meek and gentle, and a smile 
Played on his lips ; and in his speech was heard 
Paternal sweetness, dignity, and love. 
The occupation dearest to his heart 
Was to encourage goodness. Learning grew, 
Beneath his care, a thriving, vigorous plant. 
The mind was well informed, the passions held 
Subordinate, and diligence was choice. 
If e'er it chanced, as sometimes chance it must. 
That one, among so many, overleaped 
The limits of control, his gentle eye 
Grew stern, and darted a severe rebuke. 
His frown was full of terror, and his voice 
Shook the delinquent with such fits of awe, 
As left him not, till penitence had won 
Lost favor back again, and closed the breach. 

But Discipline at length, 
O'erlooked and unemployed, grew sick, and died. 
Then study languished, emulation slept, 
And virtue fled. The schools became a scene 
Of solemn farce, where ignorance in stilts, 
His cap well lined with logic not his own, 
With parrot tongue, performed the scholar's part, 
Proceeding soon a graduated dunce. 

What was learned, 
If aught was learned in childhood, is forgot j 
And such expense as pinches parents blue, 
And mortifies the liberal hand of love, 
Is squandered in pursuit of idle sports 
And vicious pleasures." Task, 



831 



CLASS THIRD. 



DUllES TO MAN, AS A MEMBER OF CIVIL SOCIETY, 



To this class belong the duties of magistrates and citizens. 
A.S these, however, would be but imperfectly understood, 
without a knowledge of the nature of civil society, and of 
the relations subsisting between society and the individual, 
it will be necessary to consider these latter, before entering 
upon the former. I shall, therefore, attempt to explain, 
first, The Nature and Limitations of Civil Society; sec- 
ondly. Government, or the Manner in which the Obligations 
of Society arc Discharged ; thirdly, TTie Duties ofmagis^ 
(rates ; fourthly, TTie Duties of Citizem. 



332 



CHAPTER FIRSl 



OF CIVIL SOCIETY. 



As civil society is a somewhat complicated conception, 
it may be useful, in the first place, to consider the nature 
of a society in its simplest foiin. This chapter will, there- 
fore, be divided into two sections. The first treats of the 
constitution of a simpU society ; the second, of the consti- 
tution of civil society. 



SECTION I 

OF A SIMPLE SOCIETY 

I. Of the nature of a Simple Society. 

1. A society of any sort originates in a peculiar form of 
contract, entered into between each several individual 
forming the society, on the one part, and all the other 
members of the society on the other part. Each party 
promises to do certain things to or for the other, and puts 
itself under moral obligation to do so. Hence, we see that 
conscience, or the power of recognising moral obligation, is, 
in the very nature of things, essential to the existence of a 
society. Without it, a society could not be formed. 

2. This contract, like any other, respects those things, and 
those things only, in which the parties have thus bound 
themselves to each other. As the individual is under no 
obligation to belong to the society, but the obligation is 
purely voluntary, he is bound in no other manner, and for 
rvo other purpose, than those in and for which he has bound 



OF A SIMPLE SOCIETY. 333 

himself. In all other respects, he is as free as he was 
before. 

3. Inasmuch as the fonnation of a society involves the 
idea of a moral obligation, each party is under moral obli- 
gation to fulfil its part of the contract. The society is 
bound to do what it has promised to every individual, and 
eveiy individual is bound to do what he has promised to 
the society. If either party cease to do this, the compact, 
like any other mutual contract, is dissolv^ed. 

4. Inasmuch as every individual is, in all respects ex- 
cepting those in which he has bound himself, as free as he 
was before, the society has no right to impose upon the 
mdividual any other obligation than those under which he 
has placed himself. For, as he has come under no such 
obligation to them, they have no more control over him 
than any other men. And, as their whole power is limited 
to that which has been conferred upon them by individuals, 
beyond this limit, they are no society; they have no 
power ; their act is really out of the society, and is, of course, 
binding upon no member of the society, any more than 
upon any other man. 

5. As every member of the society enters it upon the 
same terms, that is, as every one comes under the same 
obligations to the society, and the society comes under the 
same obligations to him, they are, by consequence, so far 
as the society is concerned, all equals or fellows. All 
have equal rights, and all are subject to the same •obli- 
gations. 

6. That which defines the obligations under which the 
hidi\idual and the society have come, in respect to each 
other, is called the constitution of the society. It is intend- 
ed to express the object of the association, and the manner 
in which that object is to be accomplished : that is to say. 
It declares what the individual promises to do for the society, 
what the society promises to do for the individual, and the 
object for which this association between the parties is 
formed. 

7. As the union of individuals in this manner is voluntary, 
every member naturally has a right to dissolve the con- 
nection when he pleases ; and the society have also a cor 



334 OF A SIMPLE SOCIETY. 

responding right. As, however, this would frequently 
expose both parties to inconvenience, it is common, in the 
articles of the constitution, or the form of compact, to 
specify on what ter-ms this may be done. When this part 
of the agreement has thus been entered into, it of course 
becomes as binding as any other part of it. 

II. Of the manner in which such a society shall be gov- 
emed. 

The object of any such association is to do something. 
But it is obvious that they can act only on one of three 
suppositions : by unanimity, by a minority, or by a majority. 
To expect unanimity in the opinions of a being so diver- 
sified in character as man, is frivolous. To suspend the 
operation of many upon the decisions of one, is manifestly 
unjust, would be subversive of the whole object of the 
association, and would render the w\,iole society more ineffi- 
cient than the separate individuals of which it is composed. 
To suppose a society to be governed by a minority, would 
be to suppose a less number of equals superior in wisdom 
and goodness to a greater number, which is absurd. It 
remains, therefore, that every society must of necessity be 
governed by a majority. 

III. Of the limits ivithin which the power of the majority 
is restricted. 

The majority, as we have just seen, is vested, from 
necessity, with the whole power of the society. But it 
derives its power wholly and exclusively from the society, 
and of course it can have no power beyond, or diverse from, 
that of the society itself. Now, as the power of the society 
is limited by the concessions made by each individual 
respectively, and is bound by its obligations to each individ- 
ual, the power of the majority is manifestly restricted within 
precisely the same hmits. 

Thus, to be more particular, a majority has no right to do 
any thing which the individuals forming the society have 
not authorized the society to do : 

1. They have no right to change the object of tbsa so- 
ciety. If this be changed, another society is formed, and 
the individual members are, as at first, at liberty to unite 
with it or not. 



OF A SIMPLE SOCIETY. 335 

2. They have no right to do any thing beyond, or differ^ 
ent from, the object of the society. The reasons are the 
same as in the former instance. 

3. Nor have they a right to do any thing in a manner 
difterent from that to which the members, upon entering 
the society, agreed. The manner set forth in the consti- 
tution, was that by which the individuals bound themselves, 
and they are bound by nothing else. 

4. Nor have they a right to do any thing which violates 
the principle of the entire social equality of the members. 
As all subjected themselves equally to the same rules, any 
act which supposes a difference of right, is at variance with 
the fundamental principle of the compact. 

And, hence, from the nature of the compact^ it is obvious, 
tnat, while a majority act within the limits of the authoritjr 
thus delegated to them, the individual is under a moral 
obligation to obey their decisions ; for he has voluntarily 
placed himself under such obligation, and he is bound to 
fulfil it. 

And, on the other hand, the society is bound to fulfil to 
the individual the contract which they have formed with 
him, and to carry forward the object of the association in 
the manner and in the spirit of the contract entered into. 
Nor is this a mere matter of form or of expediency : it is a 
matter of moral obligation voluntarily entered into ; and it 
is as binding as any other contract formed under any other 
circumstances. 

And, again, if the society or the majority act in violation 
of these engagements, or if they do any thing not committed 
to them by the individual, such act is not binding upon any 
member ; and he is under no more obligation to be gov- 
erned by it, than he would be if it were done by any other 
persons, or if not done at all. 

If these principles be correct, they will, I think, throw 
some light upon the question of the durability of corpora- 
tions. A corporation is a society established for certam 
purposes, which are to be executed in a certain manner. 
He who joins it, joms it under these conditions ; and the 
whole power of the society consists in power to do these 
tilings in this manner. If they do any thing else, they, 



336 OF A SIMPLE SOCIETY. 

when doing it, are not this society, but some other. And 
of course those, whether the minority or the majority whc 
act according to the original compact, are the society ; and 
the others, whether more or less, are something else. The 
act of incorporation is governed by the same principles. 
It renders the persons so associated a body politic, and 
recognised in law, but it does not interfere with the original 
principles of such an association. The corporation, there- 
fore, are the persons, whether more or less, who adhere to 
the original agreement ; and any act declaring any thing 
else to be the society, is unjust and void. 

But suppose them all to have altered their sentiments. 
The society is then, of course, dissolved. They may, if 
they choose, form another society ; but they are not another, 
of course, nor can they be such until they form another 
organization. 

Again, suppose that they have property given under the 
original association, and for the promotion of its objects, 
and the whole society, or a majority ofthem, have changed 
its objects. I answer. If a part still remain, and prosecute 
the original object, they are the society ; and the others, 
by changing the object, have ceased to be the society. 
The right of property vests with those who adhere to the 
original constitution. If all have changed the object, the 
society is dissolved ; and all ownership, so far as the 
property is concerned, ceases. It therefore either belongs 
to the public, or reverts to the heirs at law. A company 
of men united for another object, though retaining the 
same name, have no more right to inherit it than any other 
citizens The right of a legislature to give it to them by 
special act, is even veiy questionable. Legislatures are not 
empowered to bestow property upon men at will ; and such 
grant, being beyond the power conceded to the legislator, 
seems to me to be null and void. 

The principles of this section seem to me to demand 
the special attention of those who are at present engaged in 
conducting the business of voluntary associations. It should 
always be remembered, that he who joins a voluntary asso- 
ciation, joins it for a specified object, and for no other 
The association itself has one object, and no other. This 



OF CIVIL SOCIETY. 337 

object, and the manner in which it is to be accomplished, 
ought to be plainly set forth in the constitution. Now, 
when a majority attempt to do any thing not comprehended 
within this object thus set forth, or in a manner at variance 
with that prescribed, they violate the fundamental article 
of the compact, and the society is virtually dissolved. And 
against such infraction of right it is the duty of the individual 
to protest ; and if it be persisted in, it is his duty to withdraw. 
And it seems to me that, othenvise, the whole benefit of 
voluntary associations will be lost ; and if the whole society 
do it, the society is changed, and it is changed in no man- 
ner the less because its original name is retained. If the 
objects of such associations be not restricted, their increasing 
complication will render them unmanageable by any form 
of agency. If an individual, when he unites with others 
for one object, knows not for how many objects, nor for 
what modes of accomplishing them, he shall be held re 
sponsible, who will ever unite in a benevolent enterprise ? 
And, if masses of men may be thus associated in every 
part of a country for one professed object, and this object 
may be modified, changed, or exceeded, according to the 
will of an accidental majority, voluntary associations will 
veiy soon be transformed into the tools of intriguing and 
ambitious men, and will thus become a curse instead of a 
blessing. 



SECTION II. 

OF CIVIL SOCIETY. 

In order to consider this subject correctly, it will be 
necessary to consider society as distinct from government. 
It may exist without a government. At some time it must 
have so existed. And in all cases, government is merely 
the instmment by which it accomplishes its purposes. 
Government is the agent. Society is the principal. 

The first consideration which meets us, in the discussion 
29 



338 0¥ CIVIL SOCIETY 

of this subject, is, that civil society is an institution of 
GOD ; or, in other words, it is the will of God that man 
should live in a state of society. This may be shown both 
from the original impulses common to all men, and from the 
necessities of man, arising out of the conditions of his 
present existence. 

I. From the original impulses of man. 

1. One of the strongest and most universal impulses of 
our nature, is a general love for society. It commences, 
as every one must have observed, with early infancy, and 
continues, unabated, to the close of life. The poets can 
conceive of no situation more afflictive, or more intolerable, 
than that of a human being in a state of perfecj; loneliness. 
Hence, solitary confinement is considered, by all mankind, 
as one of the severest forms of punishment. And, hence, 
a disposition to separate one's self from society is one of 
the surest indications of mental derangement. Now, the 
natural result of this intense and universal impulse is a 
disposition to control such other desires as shall be incon- 
sistent with it. Wherever these dispositions exist, a num 
ber of human beings will as readily and naturally form a 
society as they will do any other thing on which their 
happiness depends. A constitution of this sort manifestly 
shows what is the will of our Creator concerning us. 

2. The various forms of human attachment illustrate the 
same truth. 

Thus, the attachment between the sexes at once forms 
a society, which is the origin of every other. Of this union, 
the fundamental principle is a limited surrender of the 
'happiness of each to that of the other, and the consequent 
attainment of an increased return of happiness. From this 
arises the love of parents to children, and that of children 
to parents, and all the various modifications of affection 
resulting from collateral and more distant relationships. 

Besides these, there must continually arise the feehng of 
friendship between individuals of similar habits and of cor- 
respondent pursuits ; the love of benevolence towards those 
who need our succor, or who awaken our sympathy ; and 
the love of approbation, which will stimulate us to deny 
ourselves for the sake of acquiring the good opinion of those 



OF CIVIL SOCIETT. 339 

by whom we are sun'ounded. Now, the tendency of all 
these instincts is manifestly twofold : first, as in the former 
instance, as these propensities can be gratified only by 
society, we shall be disposed to surrender whatever will be 
inconsistent with the enjoyment of society ; and, secondly , 
since it is, as we have seen before, in the very nature of 
affection, to surrender our own personal gratification for the 
happiness of those whom we love, affection renders such a 
surrender one of the very sources of our individual happi- 
ness. Thus, patriotism, which is only one form of the love 
of society, not only supposes a man to be willing to sur- 
render something personal for the sake of something general, 
which he likes better, but also to derive happiness from that 
very sun-ender, and to be actually happier when acting 
fi-om these principles than from any other. It is almost 
needless to add, that the Creator's intention, in forming 
beings with such impulsions, is too evident to be mistaken. 
II. The same taith is taught fi'om the necessities imposed 
upon us by the conditions of our being. 

1. Suppose the human race, entirely destitute of these 
social principles, to have been scattered abroad over the 
face of the earth as mere isolated mdividuals. It is evident 
that, under such circumstances, the race must quickly have 
perished. Man, thus isolated, could never contend, either 
with the cold of the northern, or with the wild beasts of the 
temperate and warmer, regions. He has neither muscular 
power, nor agility, nor instinct, to protect him from the' one, 
nor any natural form of clothing to shield him from the other. 

2. But suppose that, by any means, the race of man 
could be continued. Without society, the progressive 
melioration of his condition would be impossible. 

Without society, there could be no division of labor. 
Every one must do every thing for himself, and at the 
greatest possible disadvantage. Without society, there 
could be neither any l<:nowledge of the agents of nature, 
nor any application of them to the production of value. 
A man's instruments would be almost exclusively limited to 
his teeth and nails. Without society, there could be no 
acknowledged right of property. Hence, from these 
causes, there could be no accumulated capital; and each 



340 OF CIVIL SOCIETY. 

successive generation of men must, like the brutes, remain 
precisely in the condition of their predecessors. It is 
equally evident, that, under these circumstances, there 
could exist no possibility of either intellectual or moral 
improvement. In fact, take the most civilized, intellectual, 
and moral condition in which man has ever existed, and 
compare it with the condition of man naked, wandering, 
destitute, exposed to the peltings of every tempest, and 
liable to become the prey of every ferocious beast, and the 
difference between these two conditions is wholly the result 
of society. If it be granted that God is benevolent, and 
wills the happiness of man, nay, if 't be even granted that 
God wills the existence of man, it must be conceded that 
He also wills that condition on which, not merely his hap- 
piness, but even his very existence, depends. 

Now, if this be the fact, that is, if civil society be an 
institution of God, several important conclusions will be 
seen to follow from it : 

1. A very important distinction may be observed between 
civil society and a simple or voluntary society, such as is 
described in the last section. In a simple society, the con- 
tract is voluntary, and is, like any other society, dissolved 
at the pleasure of the parties ; or it ceases to be binding 
upon either party, if its conditions be violated by the other 
party. But, civil society being an institution of God, spe- 
cific duties are imposed upon both parties, which remain 
unchanged even after the other party may, in various re- 
spects, have violated his part of the contract. In civil 
society, we are under obligation to God as well as to man, 
and the former obligation remains even after the other has 
been annulled. In this respect, it follows the analogy of 
the other relations established by God, as that of husband 
and wife, parent and child, in which the one party is bound 
to act in obedience to the will of God, and according to the 
obligations of the relation, whether the other party does so 
or not. 

2. Civil society being an ordinance of God, it cannot 
be justly established, upon any principles whatsoever, simply 
according to the will of the parties, but it must be established 
upon the principles which God has established. If it be 



OF CITIL SOCIETY. 341 

established upon any other principles, the evidence of his 
displeasure will be seen in the mutual evil which both parties 
suffer, in consequence of violating a law of their being. 
Such is the case with marriage. Tliis is a form of society- 
established by God. Men have no right to enter into it as 
they please, but only according to the laws which God has 
established ; and, if they act othei-wise, mutual misery will 
be the result. 

3. If society be an ordinance of God, it follows that 
every man who conforms to the social laws of God has a 
right to it. For if, in the formation of civil society, men 
are under obligation to act in obedience to the will of God, 
they have no right to construct it upon such principles as 
will exclude any man who is willing to obey the social 
laws of his Maker. No man can, therefore, justly be ex- 
cluded from society, unless he have committed some overt 
act by which he has forfeited this right. His original right 
)s to be taken for granted ; the proof of forfeiture rests with 
those who would exclude him. Hence, it is not enough, to 
say, if a man does not like this society, he may go to 
another. So long as he violates none of his Maker's social 
laws, he has a right to this society, and he cannot be ex- 
cluded from it without injustice. Any course of legislation, 
iherefore, which obliges men to leave a society, unless 
their forfeiture of social right be proved, is oppressive and 
unjust. 

4. As society is an ordinance of God, it is evidently the 
will of God that its existence be preserved. Hence, society 
has a right to take all the means which may be necessary 
to prevent those crimes, which, if permitted, must destroy 
society itself. Hence is derived its power to punish crimi- 
nals, to enforce contracts, and to establish such forms of 
government as may best conduce to the well-being of the 
social institution. 

I suppose it to have been from a misconception of these 
principles, that our forefathers erred. They conceived 
that, in forming a civil society here in the wilderness, they 
had a right to frame its provisions in such manner as they 
chose. Hence, they made the form of religious belief a 
subject of cA'il legislation, and assumed the right of ban- 
29* 



342 - OF CIVIL SOCIETY 

isliing from their society those who differed from them in 
the mode of worshipping God. Their first assumption 1 
conceive to be an error. If society be an ordinance of 
God, whenever and wherever men form it, they must form 
It in obedience to his laws. But he has never intended 
that rehgious beUef, or reUgious practice, if they interfere 
not with the rights of others, should be subject to human 
legislation. 

Secondly, Of the nature and limitations of the 
CONTRACT entered into between the individual and civil 
society. 

It has been already remarked, that every society is es- 
sentially a mutual compact, entered into between every in- 
dividual and all the rest of those who fonn the society. As 
all these individuals enter the society upon the same terms, 
that is, put themselves under the power of society in the 
same respects, the power of the society over the individual is 
derived from the concession of every individual, and is no 
other, and in no wise different from what these individuals 
have made it. And, on the other hand, as every member 
of the society is a party to the contract which the society 
has made with the individual, every member of the society 
is bound faithfully to execute the contract thus entered 
into. 

But, as it was also remarked, this society differs from a 
simple or voluntary society, inasmuch as it is an ordinance 
of God, and it is subject to the laws which he has imposed 
upon it. That every man is hound to become a member of 
civil society, need not be asserted ; all that I affirm is, that, 
if men form a civil society, they are bound to form it ac- 
cording to the laws which God has appointed. They 
cannot form it according to any other principles, without 
violating the rights of their fellow-men, and disobeying the 
laws of God. 

The question, then, which meets us as of the first im- 
portance, is this: What are the laws under which God 
has subjected civil society ? On this question I now pro- 
ceed to offer a few suggestions, considering, first, what is 
essential to the existence of society ; and, secondly, what is 
merely accidental. 



OF CIVIL SOCIETY. 343 

1. Of what is essential to the existence of civil society, 

1. As God wills the existence of civil society, it is man- 
ifest that he must forbid whatever would be inconsistent 
with its existence. And, on the other hand, he who 
chooses to enter society, virtually contracts to abstain from 
whatever is, from the constitution of things, inconsistent 
with its existence. This, 1 think, is as evident as that a 
man cannot honestly enter into a contract to do any two 
things in theii* nature essentially at variance. 

2. Suppose, now, a number of men to meet together to 
form a society, all being perfectly acquainted with the law 
of reciprocity, and all perfectly inclined to obey it. I 
think it is manifest that such persons would have to surren- 
der nothing whatever, in order to fonn a civil society. 
Every one would do just as he pleased, and yet every one 
would enjoy fully all the benefit of the social nature of 
man ; that is, every one would enjoy all the blessings 
arising both from his individual and firom his social constitu- 
tion. This, I suppose, would be the most perfect state of 
human society of which we are able to conceive. 

As, therefore, society, in its most perfect state, may exist 
without the individual's sun'endering up the right to do any 
thing which is consistent with the law of reciprocity, the 
existence of society presents no reason why he should sur- 
render any right which he may enjoy consistently with this 
law. Whatever other reasons there may be, as those of 
benevolence, mercy, or religion, they belong not to this 
question. As every man has, originally, the right to do as 
he pleases, provided he interferes not with the rights of his 
neighbors, and as the existence of civil society presents no 
reason why this right should be restricted, it remains, not- 
withstanding the existence of such society, just as it was 
before ; that is, the right vests, without change, in the in 
di\idual himself. 

3. Suppose, now, any individual to violate the law of 
reciprocity ; as, for instance, that A steals the property of 
B, or violates a contract into which they have mutually 
entered. If this be allowed, that is, if every man were to 
steal at will the property of his neighbor, it is manifest 
that the right of property would be at an end, and every 



344 OF CIVIL sociExy. 

man would be obliged to retire as far as possible from every 
other man ; that is, society would be dissolved. 

4. Again, suppose that B takes the work of redress 
into his own hands, being, at once, his own legislatoi, 
judge and executioner. From the native princ.ples of the 
human heart, it is evident that, from being the aggrieved 
party, he would, in turn, become the aggressor. This 
would lead to revenge on the part of A, — a revenge to be 
repeated by the other party, until it ended either in the 
destruction of one or of both. Hence, every difference 
would lead to interminable war and unbridled ferocity ; and 
society would cease, because eveiy man would prefer quiet 
solitude to ceaseless hostility. 

To allow one's self, therefore, in any violation of the 
law of reciprocity, or to assume the right of redressing 
one's own wrongs, is to pursue a course inconsistent with 
the existence of society ; for, were such a course to be 
pursued universally, society could not exist. 

Again, on the other hand, since, in a company of mor- 
ally imperfect beings, injury is liable to occur, and since, 
if injury were not prevented, the virtuous would become 
the prey of the vicious, and society would, as before, be 
destroyed by universal violence, it is manifestly necessary 
that injury be prevented, that is, that the virtuous be pro- 
tected, and that wrongs be redressed. But, as we have 
shown that the rights of individual self-protection and 
redress are inconsistent with the existence of society, and 
as the individual must not redress them, the duty devolves 
upon the other party, that is, upon society. Society is, 
therefore, bound to do for the individual what he has relin- 
quished the right to do for himself; that is, to protect him 
from violation of the law of reciprocity, or to redress his 
wrong, if this right be violated. 

Hence, we see the nature of the compact entered into 
between the individual and society. It essentially involves 
the following particulars : 

1. Every individual, by entering society, promises that 
he will abstain from every violation of the law of recipro- 
city, which, if universally permitted, would destroy society. 
For, if he he allowed to violate it, the allowance to violate 



OF CIVIL SOCIETY. 345 

It must be extended to all, since all are equals ; and thus 
society would be destroyed. But as, by the destruction 
of society, he would gain nothing but solitude, which he 
could enjoy without depriving others of what is to them a 
source of happiness, there can be no reason assigned why 
he should diminish their happiness, to procure what he 
could equally well enjoy by leaving them alone. If he 
join the society, he must conform to whatever is necessary 
to its existence ; if he be unwilling to do so, he must re- 
main alone. 

2. Every individual promises to surrender to society the 
right of self-protection. 

3. And, lastly, every individual promises to sun-ender to 
society the right to redi-ess his own wrongs. 

And, on the other hand, society promises, — 

1 . To protect the individual in the enjoyment of all his 
rights ; that is, to enforce upon every individual, within cer- 
tain limits, obedience to the law of reciprocity. 

2. To redress wrongs whenever they may occur, either 
by obliging the offender to do justly, or else by inflicting 
such punishment as may be most likely to prevent a repe- 
tition of the injury, either by the offender or by others. 

It is important here to remark, that this surrender on 
the one part, and this obligation on the other part, are 
mutual and universal : that is to say, the individual, on his 
part, surrenders wholly and entirely the right either to 
defend or to redress himself; and, on the other hand, society 
guarantees to defend him, and to do him justice to the 
utmost ; that is, no matter in how small a right, and no 
matter at how great an expense. 

Hence, we see the anti-social tendency of all those 
secret societies, of which the object, either avowed or in 
fact, is to protect the individual members in opposition to 
the laws, that is, in opposition to society. In this case, 
while the individual receives from civil society the same 
benefits as other men, and expects from it the fulfilment 
of its part of the contract, he does not make, on his part, 
the correspondent suiTender. He expects to be protected 
and redressed, but he reserves also the right of protecting 
and redressing himself, and it may be in opposition to the 



346 OF CIVIL SOCIETY. 

just operation of those laws which he enforces upon 
others. 

And hence, also, we see the obligation of every one to 
exert himself to the uttermost, in order to enforce the 
execution of the laws, no matter in how small a matter, or 
in the case of how obscure an individual. The execution 
of the laws is what we all promise, and we are all bound 
to fulfil it. And if laws are not executed, that is, if indi- 
viduals be not protected, and wrongs be not redressed by- 
society, the individuals will redress them themselves, and 
thus society will be dissolved. The frequent occurrence 
of mobs, that is, of extra-legal modes of redress for sup- 
posed grievances, are among the most decisive indications 
of a state of society verging towards dissolution. 

But, while this contract is thus universal and obligatory, 
it is to be remarked, that it is so only in respect to those 
things in which the parties have respectively bound them- 
selves. The individual, by entering into society, promises 
to abstain from whatever is inconsistent with the existence 
of society; but, by entering into society, he promises 
nothing more. Society promises to restrain and to redress 
whatever would be destructive to society, but it promises 
no more. In all other respects, the parties are exactly in 
the situation in which they were before the establishment 
of society. Thus freedom, therefore, both of person, of 
intellect, and of conscience, remain, by the fact of the 
existence of society, untouched. Thus also freedom of 
property remains as before, except simply in so far as a 
portion of every man's property is pledged to meet the 
necessary expenses of government. So long as he obey 
the law of reciprocity, society has no further demands upon 
him, unless his assistance be demanded in enforcing this 
obedience upon others. 

By this compact, every individual is very greatly the 
gainer. 

1. He promises to obey the law of reciprocity, which is 
the law of his nature, and by the obedience to which alone 
he can be happy. 

2. He surrenders the right of self-protection, which 
without society he can exert in but a very imperfect man- 



OF CIVIL SOCIETY. 347 

ner, and with nothing but the force of his individual ami ; 
and he receives in return the right to wield in his defence 
the whole power of society. 

3. He surrenders the riojht of redressino; his own griev- 
ances, and receives in return the right to have his griev- 
ances redressed, at whatever expense, by the whole power 
of the society. 

And, hence, as God wills the happiness of man, we see 
another reason why society is in obedience to his will ; and 
why the laws necessary to the existence of society may be 
considered, as they are in fact considered in the Scriptures, 
as enacted by His authority. 

And, again, we see that, from the very nature of society, 
the individual is perfectly within its physical power. This 
power of the whole, which they are bound to use only for 
his protection and defence, they may use for his injury and 
oppression. And as the whole power of the society is in 
the hands of the majority, the whole happiness of the indi- 
vidual or of the minority is always in the power of the 
majority. Hence we see there is no safeguard against 
oppression, except that which exists in the conditions of the 
compact on which the society is fonned, and the feeling of 
moral obligation to observe that compact inviolably. That 
is to say, the real question of civil liberty is not concerning 
forms of government, but concerning the respective limits 
and obligations of the individual and of society. When 
these are correctly adjusted and inviolably observed, there 
can be no oppression under any form of government. 
When these are not understood or not observed, there will 
oe tyranny, under any form whatsoever. And to a man of 
sense it is a matter of very small consequence whether 
oppression proceed from one or from many ; from an 
hereditary tyrant or from an unprincipled majority. The 
latter is rather the more galling, and surely at least as 
diiRcult of remedy. 

And supposing the limits to have been correctly adjusted, 
it IS obvious that they will be of no avail, unless tnere be 
in the community sufficient virtue to resist the temptations 
which continually occur to violate them. In the absense 
of this, the best constitution is valueless or worse than 



348 OF CIVIL SOCIETY. 

valueless. Hence, we see the necessity of individual virtue 
to the existence of civil freedom. And, hence, whatever 
tends to depress the standard of individual virtue, saps the 
very foundations of liberty. And hence religion, in its 
purest form, and under its most authoritative sanctions, is 
the surest hope of national as well as of individual happiness. 

11. Of the accidental modifications of civil society. 

I have thus far treated of what is essential to the social 
compact. Without such a contract as I have suggested, 
society could not exist. I by no means, however, intend 
to assert that these limits are exclusive ; and that men, in 
forming society, may not enter into contract in other 
respects, besides those which I have stated. 

Some of the incidental additions to the original forms of 
contract are the following : 

1. After having adjusted the limits of the respective 
obligations, both of the society and of the individual, men 
may choose whatever form of government they please for 
the purpose of carrying forward the objects of society. But, 
having adopted a particular form of government, they bind 
themselves to whatever is necessary to the existence of that 
government. Thus, if men choose a republican form of 
government, in which the people are acknowledged to be 
the immediate fountain of all power, they come under obli- 
gation to educate their children intellectually and morally ; 
for, without intellectual and moral education, such a form 
of government cannot long exist. And, as the intellectual 
education of the young can be made properly a subject of 
social enactment, this duty may be enforced by society. 
And the only reason why religious education does not come 
under the same rule is, that it is not, for reasons which 
liave been before given, a subject for social enactment. 

2. I have said that, by the essential principles of the 
social compact, every man is bound to contribute his part 
to the expenses of civil society ; but that, beyond this, he 
is not in any respect bound. Still, this does not exclude 
other forms of contract. Men may, if they choose, agree 
to hold their whole property subject to the will of the 
whole, so that they shall be obliged to employ it, not each 
one tor his own good, but each one for the benefit of the 



OF CIVIL SOCIETY. 349 

\vhole society. I say, that such a state of things migK 
exist, but it is manifest that it is not essential to society ; 
and that, being not essential, it is by no means to be pre- 
sumed; and that it cannot exist justly, unless this right 
have been expressly conceded by the individual to society. 
If society exert such a power when it has not been express- 
ly conceded to it, it is tyranny. The common fact has 
been, that society has presumed upon such powers, and 
has exercised them without reflection, and very greatly to 
social and individual injury. 

3. Men have very generally been disposed to take for 
granted these accidental powers, and to question or limit 
the essential powers of society. An instance in point 
occurs in the question of war. The very idea of war sup- 
poses the society to have the right of determining the moral 
relations in which the individuals of one nation shall stand 
to the individuals of another nation. Now, this power of 
society over the individual has never, that I know of, been 
questioned. And yet, 1 think it would be wery difficult 
to establish it. The moral precept is, " If thine enemy 
hunger, feed him ; if he thirst, give him drink." And I do 
not see that society has a right to abrogate this command, 
or to render void this obligation ; or that any moral agent 
has the right to commit to other individuals the power of 
changing his moral relations to any creature of God. For- 
giveness and charity to men are dispositions which we owe 
to God. And I do not see that society has any more right 
to interfere with the manifestation of these dispositions, than 
with the liberty to inculcate them and to teach them. 

To conclude. Whatever concessions on the part of the 
individual, and whatev^ powers on the part of society, are 
necessary to the existence of society, must, by the very fact 
of the existence of society, be taken for granted. Whatever 
is not thus necessary is a matter of concession and mutual 
adjustment ; and has no right to be presumed, unless it can 
be shown to have actually been surrendered. That is, in 
general, a man is bound by what he has agreed to ; but he 
is not bound by any thing else. 

I think no one can reflect upon the above considerations 
without being led to the conclusion, that the cultivation of 
30 



350 OF CIVIL SOCIETY. 

the moral nature of man is the grand means for the im- 
provement of society. This alone teaches man, whether 
as an individual or as a society, to respect the rights of 
man, as an individual or as a society. This teaches every 
one to observe inviolate the contract into which, as a 
member of society, he has entered. Now, since, as we 
have before shown, the light of conscience and the dictates 
of natural religion are. insufficient to exert the requisite 
moral power over man, our only hope is in that revelation 
of his will which God has made in the Holy Scriptures. 
In these books we are taught that all our duties to man are 
taken under the immediate protection of Almighty God. 
On pain of his eternal displeasure, he commands us to love 
every man as ourselves. Here he holds forth the strongest 
inducements to obedience, and here he presents the strongest 
motives, not merely to reciprocity, but also to benevolence. 
It is lamentable to hear the levity with which some politi- 
cians, and, as they would persuade us to believe them to 
be, statesmen, speak of the religion of Jesus Christ; to 
observe how complacently they talk of using it as an instpj- 
ment, convenient enough for directing the weak, but whicii 
a man of sense can well enough do without ; and which is 
a mere appendage to the forces that, by his constitution, 
are destined to act upon man. A more profound acquaint- 
ance with the moral and social nature of man, would, as it 
seems to me, work a very important change in their views 
of this suljject. 



351 



CHAPTER SECOND. 

OF THE MODE IN WHICH THE OBJECTS OF SOCIETY ARE 
ACCOMPLISHED. 

We have thus far treated merely of the constitution of 
a society, of the contract entered into between the indiviq- 
ual and society, and of the obhgations hence devolving upon 
each. The obligations of society are to protect the indi- 
vidual from infractions of the law of reciprocity, and to 
redress his wrongs if he have been injured. 

But it is manifest that this obligation cannot be dis- 
charged by the whole of society as a body. If a man 
steal from his neighbor, the whole community cannot leave 
their occupations, to detect, to try, and to punish the thief. 
Or, if a law is to be enacted respecting the punishment of 
theft, it cannot be done by the whole community, but must 
of necessity be intrusted to delegates. On the principle of 
division of labor, it is manifest that this service will be both 
more cheaply and more perfectly done, by those who 
devote themselves to it, than by those who are, for the 
greater part of the time, engaged in other occupations. 

Now I suppose a government to be that system of dele- 
gated agencies, by which these obhgations of society to the 
individual are fulfilled. 

And, moreover, as every society may have various en- 
gagements to form with other independent societies, it is 
convenient, in general, that this business should be trans- 
acted by this same system of agencies. These two offices 
of government, though generally united, are in their na- 
ture distinct. Thus we see, in our own country, the State 
Governments are, to a considerable degree, intrusted with 
the first, while a part of the fonner, and all the latter power, 
vest in the general government. 



35S MODES IN WHICH THE OBJECTS OF 

A government thus understood is naturally divided into 
three parts. 

1. An individual may from ignorance violate the rights 
of his neighbor, and thus innocently expose himself to pun- 
ishment. Or, if he violate his neighbor's rights maliciously, 
and justly merit punishment, a punishment may be inflicted 
more severe than the nature of the case demands. To 
avoid this, it is necessary that the various forms of violation 
be as clearly as possible defined, and also that the penalty 
be plainly and explicitly attached to each. This is a law. 
This, as we have shown, must be done by delegates. 
These delegates are called a legislature, and the individual 
members of it are legislators. 

From what we have said, their power is manifestly 
limited. They have no power except to execute the obli- 
gations which society has undertaken to fulfil towards the 
individual. This is all that society has conferred, for it is 
all that society had to confer. 

If legislators origmate any power in themselves, or exer- 
cise any power conferred, for any purpose different fi:om 
that for which it was conferred, they violate right, and are 
guilty of tyranny. 

2. But suppose a law to be enacted, that is, a crime to 
be defined, and the penalty to be affixed. It has reference 
to no particular case, for, when enacted, no case existed to 
be affected by it. Suppose now an individual to be accused 
of violating this law. Here it is necessary to apply the 
law to this particular case. In order to do this, we must 
ascertain, first, whether the accused did commit the act laid 
to his charge ; secondly, whether the act, if it be proved to 
have been done, is a violation of the law ; that is, whether 
it come within the description of actions which the law 
forbids ; and, thirdly, if this be proved, it is necessary to 
declare the punishment which the law assigns to this par- 
ticular violation. This is the judicial branch of the gov- 
ernment. 

3. After the law has been thus applied to this particular 
case, it is necessary that it be carried into effect. This 
devolves upon the third, or the executive branch of a gov- 
ernment. 



SOCIETY ARE ACCOMPLISHED. 353 

Respecting all of these three branches of government, it 
may be remarked in general, that they are essentially iiide' 
pmdent of each other ; that each one has its specific duties 
marked out by society, within the sphere of which duties it 
is responsible to society, and to society alone. Nor is this 
independence at all affected by the mode of its appoint- 
ment. Society may choose a way of appointing an agent, 
but that is by no means a surrender of the claim which it 
has upon the agent. Thus, society may impose upon a 
legislature, or an executive, the duty of appointing a judi- 
ciary ; but the judiciary is just as much independent of the 
executive, or of the legislature, as though it were appointed 
in some other way. Society, by conferring upon one branch 
the right of appointment, has conferred upon it no other 
right. The judge, although appointed by the legislator, is 
as independent of him, as the legislator would be if appoint- 
ed by the judge. Each, within his own sphere, is under 
obligation to perform precisely those duties assigned by 
society, and no other. And hence arises the propriety of 
establishing the tenure of office, in each several branch, 
independently of the other. 

The two first of these departments are frequently sub- 
divided. 

Thus, the legislative department is commonly divided 
mto two branches, chosen under dissimilar conditions, for 
the purpose of exerting a check upon each otl:ier, by repre- 
senting society under different aspects, and thus preventing 
partial and hasty legislation. 

The judiciary is also generally divided. The judges 
explain and interpret the law ; while it is the province of 
ihe jury to ascertain the facts. 

The executive is generally sole, and executes the law by 
means of subordinate agents. Sometimes, however, a coun- 
cil is added, for the sake of advice, without whose concur- 
rence the executive cannot act. 

Sometimes the fundamental principles of the social com- 
pact are expressed, and the respective powers of the different 
branches of the government are defined, and the mode of 
their appointment described in a written document. Such 
is the case in the United States. At other times, these 
30* 



354 MODES IN WHICH THE OBJECTS OP 

principles and customs have grown up in the progress of 
society, and are the deductions drawn from, or princi- 
ples establislied by, uncontested usage. The latter is the 
case in Great Britain. In either case, such principles and 
practices, whether expressed or understood, are called the 
constitution of a country. 

Nations differ widely in the mode of selection to office, 
and in the tenure by which office is held. Thus, under 
some constitutions, the government is wholly hereditary. 
In others, it is partly hereditary and partly elective. In 
others, it is wholly elective. 

Thus, in Great Britain, the executive and one branch of 
the legislature are hereditary ; the other branch of the legis- 
lature is elective. The judiciary is appointed by the exec- 
utive, though they hold office, except in the case of the 
lord high chancellor, during good behavior. 

In the United States, the executive, and both branches 
of the legislature, are elective. The judiciary is appointed 
by the executive, by and with the advice and consent of 
the senate. In the State Government, the mode of ap- 
pointment is various. 

if it be asked. Which of these is the preferable form of 
government? the answer, I think, must be conditional. 
The best form of government for any people, is the best 
that its present moral and social condition renders prac- 
ticable. A people may be so entirely surrendered to the 
influeiwe of passion, and so feebly influenced by moral re- 
straint, that a government which relied upon moral restraint, 
could not exist for a day. In this case, a subordinate and 
inlerior principle yet remains^ — the 'principle of fear ; and 
the only resort is to a government of force, or a military 
despotism. And such do we see to be the fact. An an- 
archy always ends in this form of government. After this 
has been established, and habits of subordination have been 
formed, while the moral restraints are yet too feeble for 
self-government, an hereditary government, which addresses 
itself to the imagination, and strengthens itself by the in- 
fluence of domestic connections and established usage, may 
be as good a form as a people can sustain. As they ad- 
vance in intellectual and moral cultivation, it may advanta- 



SOCIETY ARE ACCOMPLISHED. 355 

geously become more and more elective ; and, in a suitable 
moral condition, it may be wholly so. For beings, who are 
willing to govern themselves by moral principle, there can 
be no doubt, that a goverment relying upon moral principle, 
is the true form of government. There is no reason why a 
man should be oppressed by taxation, and subjected to fear, 
who is willing to govern himself by the law of reciprocity. It 
is surely better for an intelligent and moral being to do right 
from his own will, than to pay another to force him to do right. 
And yet, as it is better that he should do right than wrong, 
even though he be forced to it, it is well that he should pa}^ 
others to force him, if there be no other way of insuring his 
good conduct. God has rendered the blessing of freedom 
inseparable from moral restraint in the individual ; and hence 
it is vain for a people to expect to be free, unless they are 
fii'st willing to be virtuous. 

It is on this point, that the question of the permanency 
of the present forai of government of the United States turns. 
That such a form of government requu'es, of necessity, a 
given amount of virtue in the people, cannot, I think, be 
doubted. If we possess that requii^ed amount of virtue, or 
if we can attain to it, the government will stand ; if not, it 
will fall. Or, if we now possess that amount of virtue, and 
do not maintain it, the government will fall. There is no 
self-sustaining power in any form of social organization. 
The only self-sustaining power is in individual virtue. And 
the fonTi of a government will always adjust itself to the 
moral condition of a people. A virtuous people will, by 
llieii- own moml power, fi-own away oppression, and, under 
any form of constitution, become essentially free. A people 
sun'endered up to their own licentious passions, must be 
held in subjection by force ; for every one will find, that 
force alone can protect him from his neighbors ; and he 
will submit to be oppressed, if he may only be protected. 
Thus, in the feudal ages, the small independent landholders 
frequently made themselves slaves of one powerfiil chief, to 
sliield tliemselves from the incessant oppression of twenty. 



356 



CHAPTER THIRD. 

THE DUTY OF THE OFFICERS OF A GOVERNMENT 

From what has been said, the duties of the officers of a 
government may be stated in a few words. 

It will be remembered that a government derives its 
authority from society, of which it is the agent ; that 
society derives its authority from the compact formed by 
individuals ; that society, and the relations between society 
and individuals, are the ordinance of God : of course the 
officer of a government, as the organ of society, is bound 
as such by the law of God, and is under obligation to per- 
form the duties of his office in obedience to this law. And, 
hence, it makes no difference how the other party to the 
contract may execute their engagements ; he, as the servant 
of God, set apart for this very thing, is bound, neverthe- 
less, to act precisely according to the principles by which 
God has declared that this relation should be governed. 

The officers of a government are Legislative, Judicial^ 
and Executive. 

I. Of Legislative Officers. 

1. It is the duty of a legislator to understand the social 
principles of man, the nature of the relation which sub- 
sists between the individual and society, and the mutual 
obligations of each. By these are his power and his obli- 
gations limited ; and, unless he thus inform himself, he can 
never know respecting any act, whether it be just, or 
whether it be oppressive. Without such knowledge, he 
can never act with a clear conscience. 

2. It is the duty of a legislator to understand the precise 
nature of the compact which binds together the particular 
society for which he legislates. This involves the general 
conditions of the social compact, and something more. It 
generally specifies conditions which the former does not 



THE DUTY OF THE OFFICERS, ETC. 357 

contain, and, besides, establishes the Hmit of the powers 
of the several branches of the government. He who 
enters upon the duties of a legislator, without such knowl- 
edge, is not only wicked, but contemptible. He is the 
worst of all empirics ; he offers to prescribe for a malady, 
and knows not whether the medicine he uses be a remedy 
or a poison. The injury which he inflicts is not on an in- 
dividual, but on an entire community. There is probably 
no method in which mischief is done so recklessly, and 
on so large a scale, as by ignorant, arid thoughtless, and 
wicked legislation. Were these plain considerations duly 
weighed, there would be somewhat fewer candidates for 
legislative office, and a somewhat greater deliberation on 
the part of the people in selecting them. 

3. Having made himself acquainted with his powers and 
his obligations, he is bound to exert his power precisely 
within the limits by which it is restricted, and for the pur- 
poses for which it was conferred, to the best of his knowl- 
edge and ability, and for the best good of the whole 
society. He is bound impartially to carry into effect the 
principles of the general and the particular compact, just 
in those respects in which the carrying them into effect is 
committed to him. For the action of others he is not re- 
sponsible, unless he has been made so responsible. He is 
not the organ of a section, or of a district, much less of a 
party, but of the society at large. And he who uses his 
power for the benefit of a section, or of a party, is false to 
his duty, to his country, and to his God. He is engraving 
his name on the adamantine pillar of his country's history, 
to be gazed upon for ever as an object of universal detes- 
tation. 

4. It is his duty to leave every thing else undone. From 
no plea of present necessity, or of peculiar circumstances, 
may he overstep the limits of his constitutional power, 
either in the act itself, or the purpose for vv^hich the act is 
done. The moment he does this, he is a tyrant. Pre- 
cisely the power committed to him exists, and no other. 
If he may exercise one power not delegated, he may exer- 
cise another, and he may exercise all ; thus, on principle, 
he assumes himself to be the fountain of power ; restraint 



358 THE DUTY OF THE OFFICERS 

Upon encroachment ceases, and all liberty is henctjfortli 
at an end. If the powers of a legislator are insuffi- 
cient to accomplish the purposes of society, inconveniences 
will arise. It is better that these should be endured until 
the necessity of some modification be made apparent, than 
to remedy them on principles which destroy all liberty, and 
thus remove one inconvenience by tak ng away the possi- 
bility of ever removing another. 
II. Of judicial officers. 

1. The judicial officer forms an independent branch of 
the government, or a separate and distinct agent, for ex- 
ecuting a particular part of the contract which society has 
made with the individual. As I have said before, it mat- 
ters not how he is appointed : as soon as he is appointed, he 
is the agent of society, and of society alone. 

The judge, precisely in the same manner as the legisla- 
tor, is bound by the principles of the social contract ; and 
by those of the particular civil compact of the society in 
whose behalf he acts. This is the limit of his authority ; 
and it is on his own responsibility, if he transcend it. 

2. The provisions of this compact, as they are embodied 
in laws, he is bound to enforce. 

And hence we see the relation in which the judge 
stands to the legislator. Both are equally limited by the 
principles of the original compact. The acts of both are 
valid, in so far as they are authorized by that compact. 
Hence, if the legislator violate his trust, and enact laws at 
variance with the constitution, the judge is bound not to 
enforce them. The fact, that the one has violated the 
constitution, imposes upon the other no obligation to do 
the same. Thus the judge, inasmuch as he is obliged to 
decide upon the constitutionality of a law before he en- 
forces it, becomes accidentally, but in fact, a coordinate 
power, without whose concurrence the law cannot go mto 
effect. 

Hence we see that the duty of a judge is to understand, 

1. The principles of that contract from which he de 
rives his power ; 

2. The laws of the community, whose agent he is ; 

f3. To explain these laws without fear, favor, or afFec 



OF A GOVERNMENT. A 359 

tion ; and to show their bearing upon each Individual case, 
without bias, either towards the individual, or towards so- 
ciety; and, 

4. To pronounce the decision of the law, according to 
its true intent. 

5. As the jury are a part of the judicial agents of the 
government, they are bound in the same manner to decide 
upon the facts, according to their best knowledge and 
ability, with scrupulous and impartial integrity. 

III. Of executive ojicers. 

The executive office is either simple or complex. 

1. Simple; as where his only duty is, to perform what 
either the legislative or judicial branches of the government 
have ordered to be done. 

Such is the case with sheriffs, military officers, &c. 

Here the officer has no right to question the goodness or 
wisdom of the law ; since for these he is not responsible. 
His only duty is to execute it, so long as he retains his 
office. If he believe the action requu-ed of him to be 
morally wrong, or at variance with the constitution, he 
should resiojn. He has no risjht to hold the office, and 
refuse to perform the duties which others have been empow- 
ered to require of him. 

2. Complex ; where legislative and executive duties are 
imposed upon the same person ; as where the chief magis- 
trate is allowed a vote, on all acts of the other branches of 
the legislature. 

As far as his duties are legislative, he is bound by the 
same principles as any other legislator. 

Sometimes his power is limited to a vote on mere con 
stitutional questions ; and at others, it extends to all ques- 
tions whatsoever. Sometimes his assent is absolutely ne- 
cessary to the passage of all bills ; at others, it is only con- 
ditionally necessary, that is, the other branches may, under 
certain circumstances, enact laws without it. 

When this legislative power of the executive has been 
exerted within its constitutional limits, he becomes merely 
an executive officer. He has no other deliberative power 
than that conferred upon him by the constitution. He 
is under the same obligations as any other executive officer, 



360 -^HE DUTY OF THE OFFICERS, ETC 

to execute the law, unless it seem to him a violation ol 
moral or constitutional obligation. In that case, it is his 
duty to resign. He has no more right than any other man, 
to hold the office, while he is, from any reason whatever, 
unable to discharge the duties which the office imposes 
upon him. That executive officer is guilty of gross per- 
version of official and moral obligation, who, after the 
decision of the legislative or judicial branch of a govern- 
ment has been obtained, suffers his own personal liews to 
nfluence him in the discharge of his duty. The exhibi- 
tion of such a disposition is a manifest indication of an 
entire disqualification for office. It shows that a man is 
either destitute of the ability to comprehend the nature of 
his station, or fatally wanting in that self-government, so 
mdispensably necessary to him who is called to preside over 
important business. 

And not only is an executive officer bound to exert no 
other power than that committed to him ; he is also bound 
to exert that power for no other purposes than those for 
which it was committed. A power may be conferred for 
the public good ; but this by no means authorizes a man 
to use it for the gratification of individual love or hatred ; 
much less for the sake of building up one pohtical party, 
or of crushing another. Political corruption is in no re- 
spect the less wicked, because it is so common. Dishon- 
esty is no better policy in the affairs of state than in any 
other affairs; though men may persuade themselves and 
others to the contrary. 



361 



CHAPTER FOURTH. 

THE DUTIES OF CITIZENS. 

From what has already been stated, it will be seen 
that the duties of a citizen are of two kinds : first, as an 
individual ; and, second, as a member of society. A few 
remarks on each of these will close this part of the sub- 
ject. 

First. As an individual. 

Every citizen, as an individual, is hound to observe, in 
good faith, the contract tvhich he has made with society. 
This obliges him, — 

1 . To observe the law of reciprocity, in all his intercourse 
with others. 

The nature of this law has been already explained. It 
is only necessaiy to remark, that society furnishes an ad- 
ditional reason for observing it, — a reason founded both in 
voluntar}^ compact, and also in the necessity of obedience 
to our own happiness. It may also be added, that the 
nature of the law of reciprocity binds us, not merely to 
avoid those acts which are destructive to the eocistence of 
society, but also those which would interfere with its hap- 
piness. The principle is, in all cases, the same. If we 
assume the right to interfere with the smallest means of 
happiness possessed by our neighbor, the admission of tliat 
assumption w^ould excuse eveiy form of interference. 

2. To surrender the right of redressing his \^Tongs wholly 
to society. This has been considered already, in treating 
of the social compact. Aggression and injuiy in no case 
justify retaliation. If a man's house be attacked, he may, 
so far as society is concerned, repel the robber, because here 
society is unable, at the instant, to assist him ; but he is at 
liberty to put forth no other effort than that necessary to 
protect himself, or to secure the aesjessor, for the purpose 

31 



362 THE DUTIES OF CITIZENS. 

of delivering him over to the judgment of society. If, aftef 
having secured him, we put him to death, this is murder. 

3. To obey all laws made in accordance with the con- 
stituted powers of society. Hence, we are in no manner 
released from this obligation, by the conviction that the law 
is unwise or inexpedient. We have confided the decision 
of this question to society, and we must abide by that de- 
cision. To do otherwise, would be to constitute every man 
the judge in his own case ; that is, to allow every man to 
obey or disobey as he pleased, while he expected from every 
other man implicit obedience. Thus, though a man were 
convinced that laws regulating the rate of interest were in- 
expedient, this would give him no right to violate these laws. 
He must obey them until he be able to persuade society to 
think as he does. 

Secondly. The citizen is under obligations as a con- 
stituent member of society. By these obligations, on the 
other hand, he is bound to fulfil the contract which he has 
made with every individual. 

Hence, he is bound, — 

1. To use all the necessary exertion to secure to every 
individual, from the highest and most powerful to the lowest 
and most defenceless, the full benefit of perfect protection 
m the enjoyment of his rights. 

2. To use all the necessary exertion to procure for every 
individual just and adequate redress for wrong. 

3. To use all the necessary exertion to carry into effect 
the laws of civil society, and to detect and punish crime, 
whether committed against the individual or against soci- 
ety. Wherever he knows these laws to be violated, he 
is bound to take all proper steps to bring the offenders to 
justice. 

And here it is to be remarked, that he is to consider, not 
merely his property, but his personal service, pledged to the 
fulfilment of this obligation. He who stands by, and sees a 
mob tear down a house, is a partaker in the guilt. And, if 
society knowingly neglect to protect the individual in the 
enjoyment of his rights, every member of that society is, in 
equity, bound, in his proportion, to make good that loss, how 
great soever it may be. 



; 



THE DUTIES OF CITIZENS. 363 

4. It is the duty of the citizen to bear, cheerfully, his pro- 
portionate burden of the pubhc expense. As society can- 
not be earned on without expense, he, by entering into 
society, obHges himself to bear his proportion of it. And, 
besides this, there are but few modes in which we receive 
back so much for what we expend, as when we pay money 
for the support of civil government. The gospel, I think, 
teaches us to go farther, and be ready to do more than we 
are compelled to do by law. The precept, " If a man 
compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain," refers to 
labor in the public service, and exhorts us to do more than 
can be in equity demanded of us. 

5. Besides this, I think a citizen is under moral obligation 
to contribute his proportion to every effort which affords a 
reasonable prospect of rendering his fellow-citizens wiser 
and better. From every such successful effort, he receives 
material benefit, both in his person and estate. He ought 
to be willing to assist others in doing tha'-: from which he 
himself derives important advantage. 

6. Inasmuch as society enters into a moral obligation to 
fulfil certain duties, which daties are performed by agents 
whom the society appoints ; for their faithful discharge of 
those duties, society is m.orally responsible. As this is the 
case, it is manifestly the duty of ev^-ry member of society 
to choose such agents as, in his opbaon, will truly and faith- 
fully discharge those duties to which they are appointed. 
He who, for the sake of party prejudice or personal feeling, 
acts othei-wise, and selects individuals for office without re- 
gard to these solemn obligatiofiS, is using his full amount of 
influence to sap the very fouudations of society, and to per- 
petrate the most revolting i'jjustice. 

Thus far, we have gone upon the supposition that society 
has exerted its power vithin its constituted limits This, 
however, unfortunately, is not always the case. The ques- 
tion then arises. What is the duty of an individual, when 
such a contingency shall arise ? 

Now, there are but three courses of conduct, in such a 
case, for the individual to pursue : passive obedience, resist- 
ance, and suffering in the cause of right : 



364 THE DUTIES OF CITIZENS. 

1. Passive obedience, in many cases, would be manifestly 
wrong. We have no right to obey an unrighteous law, 
since we must obey God at all hazards. And, aside from 
this, the yielding to injustice forms a precedent for wrong, 
which may work the most extensive mischief to those who 
shal- some after us. It is manifest, therefore, that passive 
obedience cannot be the rule of civil conduct. 

2. Resistance by force. 

Resistance to civil authority, by a single individual, would 
be absurd. It can succeed only by the combination of all 
the aggrieved against the aggressors, terminating in an ap- 
peal to physical force ; that is, by civil war. 

The objections to this course are the following : 

1. It is, at best, uncertain. It depends mainly on the 
question, which party is, under the present circumstances, 
the stronger ? Now, the oppressor is as lilcely to be the 
stronger as the oppressed, as the history of the world has 
abundantly shown. 

2. It dissolves the social fabric, and thus destroys what- 
ever has thus far been gained in the way of social organi- 
zation. But it should be remembered that few forms of 
society have existed for any considerable period, in which 
there does not exist much that is worthy of preservation. 

3. The cause of all oppression is the wickedness of man. 
But civil war is, in its very nature, a most demoralizing pro- 
cess. It never fails to render men more wicked. Can it 
then be hoped that a form of government can be created, by 
men already worse than before, better than that which 
their previous but less intense wickedness rendered intoler- 
able? 

4. Civil war is, of all evils which men inflict upon them- 
selves, the most horrible. It dissolves not only social but 
domestic ties, overturns all the security of property, throws 
back, for ages, all social improvement, and accustoms men 
to view, without disgust and even with pleasure, all that is 
atrocious and revolting. Napoleon, accustomed as he was 
to bloodshed, turned away with horroi^from the contempla- 
tion of cfvil war. This, then, cannot be considered the way 
designed by our Creator for rectifying social abuses. 



THE DUTIES OF CITIZENS. 365 

3. The third course is that of suffering in the cause of 
right. Here we act as we believe to be right, in defiance 
of opTjression, and bear patiently whatever an oppressor 
may inflict upon us. 

The advantages of this course are,- 

1. It preserves entire whatever exists that is valuable in 
t'.ie present organization. 

2. It presents the best prospect of ultimate correction of 
abuse, by appealing to the reason and the conscience of 
men. This is, surely, a more fit tribunal to which to refer 
a moral question, than the tribunal of physical force. 

3. It causes no more suffering than is actually necessary 
to accomplish its object ; for, whenever men are convinced 
of the wickedness of oppression, the suffering, of itself, 
ceases. 

4. Suffering in the cause of right has a manifest tendency 
to induce the injurious to review their conduct, under all 
the most favorable cii^cumstances for conviction. It disarms 
pride and malevolence, and enlists sympathy in favor of 
the sufferer. Hence, its tendency is to make men better. 

5. And experience has shown that the cause of civil 
liberty has always gained more by martyrdom than by war. 
It has rarely happened that, during civil war, the spirit of 
true liberty has not declined. Such was the case in the 
time of Charles I, in England. How far the love of liberty 
had declined in consequence of civil war, is evident from 
the fact, that Cromwell succeeded immediately to unlimited 
power, and Charles II returned with acclamation, to inflict 
upon the nation the most odious and heartless tyranny by 
which it was ever disgraced. During the suffering for con- 
science under his reign, the spirit of liberty revived, hurled 
his brother from the throne, and established British free- 
dom upon a firm, and, we trust, an immovable foundation. 

6. Every one must be convinced, upon reflection, that 
this is really the course indicated by the highest moral 
excellence. Passive obedience may aiise from servile fear ; 
resistance, fi'om vain-glory, ambition, or desire of revolution. 
Suffering for the sake of right can arise only from a love of 
justice and a hatred of oppression. The real spirit of 

31* 



366 



THE DUTIES OF CITIZENS. 



liberty can never exist, in any remarkable degree, in any 
nation where there is not this willingness to suffer in the 
cause of justice and liberty. Ever so little of the spirit of 
martyrdom is always a more favorable indication for civili- 
zation, than ever so much dexterity of party management, or 
ever so turbulent protestation of immaculate patriotism. 



367 



DIVISION IL 

THE LAW OF BENEVOLENCE. 

CHAPTER FIRST. 

GENERAL OBLIGATION AND DIVISION OF THE SUBJF.Cl . 

We have thus far considered merely the law of recipro- 
city ; that is, the law which prevents our interference with 
those means of happiness which belong to our neighbor, 
from the fact that they are the gift of God to him. But it 
is manifest that this is not the only law of our present con- 
stitution. Besides being obliged to abstain from doing 
WTong to our neighbor, we are also obliged to do him good ; 
and a large part of our moral probation actually comes 
under this law. 

The law of benevolence, or the law which places us 
under obligation to be the instruments of happiness to those 
who have no claim upon us on the ground of reciprocity, is 
manifestly indicated by the circumstances of our constitution. 

1 . We are created under a constitution in which we are of 
necessity dependent upon the benevolence of others. Thus 
we are all exposed to sickness, in which case we become 
perfectly helpless, and when, were it not for the kindness 
of others, we must perish. We grow old, and by age lose 
the power of supporting ourselves. Were benevolence to 
be withdrawn, many of the old would die of want. The 
various injuries, arising from accident as well as from disease, 
teach us the same lesson. And, besides, a world in which 
every individual is subject to death, must abound with 
wiaows and orphans, who, deprived by the hand of God of 
their only means of support, must frequently either look for 
sustenance and protection to those on whom they have no 



368 GENERAL OBLIGATION AND 

claim by the law of reciprocity, or they must die. Now, 
as we live under a constitution in which these things are of ^ 
daily occurrence, and many of them by necessity belonging 
to it, and as we are all equally liable to be in need of 
assistance, it must be the design of our Creator that we 
should, under such circumstances, help each other. 

2. Nor do these remarks apply merely to the necessity 
of physical support. Much of the happiness of man depends 
upon intellectual and moral cultivation. But it is generally 
the fact, that those who are deprived of these means of 
happiness are ignorant of their value ; and would, therefore^ 
remain for ever deprived of them, were they not awakened 
to a conviction of their true interests by those who have 
been more fortunate. Now, as we ourselves owe our 
intellectual happiness to the benevolence, either nefir or 
more remote, of others, it would seem that an obligation was 
imposed upon us to manifest our gratitude by extending the 
olessings which we enjoy, to those who are desUtute of 
them. We frequently cannot requite our actual beiiefactors, 
but we always may benefit others less happy than ourselves ; 
and thus, in a more valuable manner, promote die welfare 
of the whole race to which we belong. 

3. This being manifestly an obligation imposed upon us 
by God, it cannot be affected by any of the actions of men ; 
that is, we are bound by the law of benevolence, irrespective 
of the character of the recipient. It matters not though he 
be ungrateful, or wicked, or injurious ; this does not affect 
the obligation under which we are placed by God, to treat 
our neighbor according to the law of benevolence. Hence, 
m all cases, we are bound to govern ourselves, not by the 
treatment which we have received at his hands, but accord- 
ing to the law by which God has directed our intercourse 
with him to be governed. 

And yet more. It is evident that many of the virtues 
most appropriate to human nature, are called into exercise 
only by the miseries or the vices of others. How could 
there be sympathy and mercy, were there no suffering? 
How could there be patience, meekness, and forgiveness, 
were there no injury ? Thus we see, that a constitution 
which involves^ by necessity, suffering, and the obligation to 



DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT. 369 

relieve it, is that which alone is adapted to the perfection 
of our moral character in our present state. 

This law of om- moral constitution is abundantly set forth 
m the Holy Scriptures. 

It is needless here to speak of the various passages in the 
Old Testament which enforce the necessity of mercy and 
charity. A single text from our Savior's Sermon on the 
Mount will be sufficient for my purpose. It is found 
Luke vi, 32 — 36, and Matthew v, 43 — 48. I quote the 
passage from Luke : 

" If ye love them that love you, what thank have ye ? 
for sinners also love those that love them. And if ye do 
good to those that do good to you, what thank have ye ? 
for sinners also do even the same. And if ye lend to them 
of wdiom ye hope to receivfe, what thank have ye ? for 
sinners also lend to sinners, to receive as much again. 
But love ye your enemies, and do good, and lend, hoping 
for nothing again ; and your reward shall be great, and ye 
shall be the children of the Highest, for he is kind unto the 
unthankM and to the evil. Be ye, therefore, merciful, as 
your Father in heaven is merciful." In Matthew it is 
said, " Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do 
good to them that hate you, and pray for them that de- 
spitefully use you and persecute you ; that ye may be the 
children of (that is, that ye may imitate,) your Father 
which is in heaven, for he maketh his sun to rise upon the 
evil and upon the good, and sendeth rain upon the just 
and upon the unjust." 

The meaning of this precept is obvious from the context. 
To be merciful, is to promote the happiness of those who 
have no claim upon us by the law of reciprocity, and from 
whom w^e can hope for nothing by way of remuneration. 
We are to be merciful, as our Father w^ho is in heaven is 
merciful. 

1. God is the independent source of happiness to every 
thmg that exists. None can possibly repay him, and yet 
his bounty is unceasing. All his perfections are continually 
employed in promoting the happiness of his creation. Now, 
we are commanded to be imitators of him ; that is, to 
employ all our powers, not for our owm gi'atification, but for 



370 GENERAL OBLIGATION AND 

the happmess of others. We are to consider this not as an 
onerous duty, but as a privilege ; as an opportunity con- 
ferred upon us of attaining to some resemblance to the 
Fountain and Author of all excellence. 

2. This precept teaches us that our obligation is 7iot 
altered by the character of the recipient. God sends rain 
on the just and on the unjust, and causeth his sun to shine 
on the evil and on the good. "God commendeth his love 
to us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." 
In imitation of this example, we are commanded to do good 
to, and promote the happiness of, the evil and the wicked. 
We are to comfort them when they are afflicted ; to relieve 
them when they are sick ; and specially, by all the means 
in our power, to strive to reclaim them to virtue. We are 
not, however, to give a man the means of breaking the laws 
of God ; as to fiirnish a drunkard with the means of in- 
temperance : this would be to render ourselves partakers of 
his sin. What is here commanded is merely the relieving 
his misery as a suffering human creature. 

3. Nor is our obligation altered by the relation m which 
the recipient may stand to us. His being our enemy in no 
manner releases us from obligation. Every wicked man is 
the enemy of God ; yet God bestows even, upon such, the 
most abundant favors. 

" God so loved the world, that he sent his only begotten 
Son, that whosoever believeth on him should not perish, bui 
have everlasting life." Jesus Christ spent his life in acts 
of mercy to his bitterest enemies. He died praying for his 
murderers. So we are commanded to love our enemies, to 
overcome evil with good, and to follow the example of St. 
Paul, who declares to the Corinthians, " I desire to spend 
and be spent for you ; though the more abundantly I love 
you, the less I be loved." 

In a word, God teaches us in the Holy Scriptures, that 
all our fellow-men are his creatures as well as ourselves ; 
and, hence, that we are not only under obligation, under 
all circumstances, to act just as he shall command us, but 
that we are specially under obligation to act thus to our 
fellow-men, who are not only our brethren, but who are 
also under his special protection. He declares that they 



I 



DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT. 371 

are all his children ; that, by showing rnercy to them, we 
manifest our love to him ; and that this manifestation is 
the most valuable, when it is the most evident that we are 
influenced by no other motive than love to him. 

Shakspeare has treated this subject veiy beautifully in 
the following passages : 

'Tis mightiest in the mightiest ; it becomes 

The tlironed monarch better than his crown. 

His sceptre shows the force of temporal potcei'^ 

The attribute to awe and majesty, 

Wherein doth sit tlie (head and fear of Icings ; 

But mercy is above tlie sceptred sicay. 

It is enthroned in the heart of kings. 

It is an attribute of God himself; 

And earthly power doth then show likest God's 

When mercy seasons justice. 

Mer. of Venice, Act 4, Scene I. 

Alas ! alas ! 
Why all the souls that are, were forfeit once ; 
And He that might the advantage best have took. 
Found out the remedy. How icould you he, 
If He, who is the top of judgment, should 
But judge you as you ore? 

Measure for Measure, Act 2, Scene 2. 

The Scriptures enforce this duty upon us for several 
reasons : 

1. From the example of God. He manifests himself to 
us as boundless'in benevolence. He has placed us under 
a constitution in which we may, at humble distance, imitate 
him. This has to us all the force of law, for we are surely 
under obligation to be as 2;ood as we have the knowledfre 
and the abihty to be. And as the goodness of God is 
specially seen in mercy to the wicked and the injurious, by 
the same principles we are bound to follow the same 
example. 

2. We live, essentially and absolutely, by the bounty 
and forbearance of God. It is meet that we should show 
the same bounty and forbearance to our fellow-men. 

3. Our only hope of salvation is in the forgiveness of 
God — of that God whom we have offended more than we 
can adequately conceive. How suitable is it, then, that 
we forgive the little offences of our fellow-men against us ! 



3*72 GENERAL OBLIGATION AND 

Our Savior illustrates this most beauvifully in his parable Oi 
the two servants, Matthew, xviii, 23 — 35. 

4. By the example of Christ, God has shown us what is 
that type of virtue, which, in human beings, is most accept- 
able in his sight. This was an example of perfect forbear- 
ance, meekness, benevolence and forgiveness. Thus, we 
are not only furnished with the rule, but also with the ex- 
emplification of the manner in which the rule is to be kept. 

5. These very virtues, which are called forth by suffer- 
ing from the wickedness and injury of our fellow-men, are 
those which God specially approves, and which he declares 
essential to that character which shall fit us for heaven. 
Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy. 
Blessed are the meelc, blessed are the peace-makers, he, 
A tnousand such passages might easily be quoted. 

6. God has declared that our forgiveness with him de- 
pends upon our forgiveness of others. " If ye forgive not 
men their trespasses, neither will your Father, who is in 
heaven, forgive you your trespasses." "He shall have 
judgment without mercy, that showeth no mercy; but 
mercy rejoiceth against judgment ;" that is, a merciful man 
rejoices, or is confident, in the view of the judgment day. 

If it be asked. What is the Christian limit to benevolence, 
I answer, that no definite rule is laid down in the Scrip- 
tures, but that merely the principle is inculcated. All that 
we possess is God's, and we are under obligation to use it 
all as He wills. His will is that we consider eveiy talent 
as a trust, and that we seek our happiness from the use of 
it, not in self-gratification, but in ministering to the happi- 
ness of others. Our doing thus he considers as the evi- 
dence of our love to him ; and therefore he fixes no definite 
amount which shall be abstracted from our own immediate 
sources of happiness for this purpose, but allows us to show 
our consecration of all to him, just as fully as we please. 
If this be a privilege, and one of the greatest privileges, of 
our present state, it would seem that a tmly grateful heart 
would not ask how little, but rather hoiv much, may I do to 
testify my love for the God who preserves me, and the 
Savior who has redeemed me. 

And, inasmuch as our love to God is more evidently dis- 



DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT. 373 

played in kindness and mercy to the wicked and the injuri- 
ous tlian to any others, it is manifest that we are bound, 
by this additional consideration, to practise these vutues 
toward them, in preference to any others. 

And hence we see that benevolence is a religious act, in 
just so far as it is done from love to God. It is lovely, and 
respectable, and virtuous, when done from sympathy and 
natural goodness of disposition. It is pioiiSy only when 
done from love to God. 



3-2 



374 



CHAPTER SECOND 



OF BENEVOLENCE TO THE UNHAPPY 

A MAN may be simply unhappy from either his physical 
or his intellectual condition. We shall consider these 
separately. 



SECTION I. 

UNHAPPINESS FROM rilYSICAL CONDITION. 

The occasions of unhappiness from this cause, are 
simple poverty, or the mere want of the necessities and 
conveniences of life ; and sickness and decrepitude, either 
alone, or when combined with poverty. 

1. Of poverty. Simple poverty, or want, so long as a 
human being has the opportunity of labor sufficiently pro- 
ductive to maintain him, does not render him an object of 
charity. " If a man will not work, neither shall he eat," 
is the language no less of reason than of revelation. If 
a man be indolent, the best discipline to which he can 
be subjected, is, to suffer the evils of penury. Hence, all 
that we are required to do in such a case, is, to provide 
such a person with labor, and to pay him accordingly. 
This is the greatest kindness, both to him and to society. 

2. Sometimes, however, from the dispensations of Provi- 
dence, a human being is left so destitute that his labor is 
insufficient to maintain him. Such is frequently the case 
with widows and orphans. This forms a manifest occasion 
for charity. The individuals have become, by the dispen- 



UNHAPPINESS FROM PHYSICAL CONDITION 375 

sation of God, unable to help themselves, and it is both 
our duty and our privilege to help them. 

3. Sickness. Here the ability to provide for ourselves 
is taken away, and the necessity of additional provision is 
created. In such cases, the rich stand frequendy in need 
of our aid, our sympathy, and our services. If this be 
the case with them, how much more must it be with the 
poor, from whom, the affliction which produces suffering, 
takes away the power of providing the means necessary 
for alleviating it ! It is here, that the benevolence of the 
gospel is peculiarly displayed. Our Savior declares, 
" inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of 
these, ye have done it unto me." Bishop Wilson, on this 
passage, has the following beautiful remark : " ' Inasmuch ' 
(as often) ; who, then, would miss any occasion ? ' 2^he 
least ; ' who, then, would despise any object 1 ' To me ;^ 
so that, in serving the poor, we serve Jesus Christ.^' 

4. Age also frequently brings with it decrepitude of 
body, if not imbecility of mind. This state calls for our 
sympathy and assistance, and all that care and atten- 
tion which the aged so much need, and which it is so suit- 
able for the young and vigorous to bestow. 

The above are, I believe, the principal occasions for the 
exercise of benevolence towards man's physical sufferings. 
We proceed to consider the principles by which our benev- 
olence should be regulated. These have respect both to 
the recipient and to the benefactor. 

I. Principles which relate to the recipient. 

It is a law of our constitution, that every benefit which 
God confers upon us, is the result of labor, and generally 
of labor in advance ; that is, a man pays for what he re- 
ceives, not after he has received it, but before. This rule 
is universal, and applies to physical, intellectual, and moral 
benefits, as will be easily seen upon reflection. 

Now, so universal a rule could not have been established 
without both a good and a universal reason ; and, hence, 
we find, by experience, that labor, even physical labor, is 
necessary to the healthful condition of man, as a physical, 
an intellectual, and a moral being. And, hence, it is evi- 
dent that the rule is just as applicable to the poor as to the 



376 UNHAPPINESS FROM THYSICAL CONDITION. 

rich. Or to state the subject in another form : Labor is 
either a benefit or a cui-se. If it be a curse, there can be 
no reason why every class of men should not bear that 
portion of the infliction which God assigns to it. If it be 
a benefit, there can be no reason why every man should 
not enjoy his portion of the blessing. 

And, hence, it will follow that our benevolence should 
cooperate with this general law of our constitution. 

1. Those who are poor, but yet able to support them- 
selves, should be enabled to do so by means of labor, and 
on no other condition. If they are too indolent to do this, 
they should suffer the consequences. 

2. Those who are unable to support themselves wholly, 
should be assisted only in so far as they are thus unable. 
Because a man cannot do enough to support himself, there 
is no reason why he should do nothing, 

3. Those who are unable to do any thing, should have 
every thing done for them which their condition requires. 
Such are infants, the sick, the disabled, and the aged. 

Benevolence is intended to have a moral effect upon the 
recipient, by cultivating kindness, gratitude, and univei-sal 
benevolence among all the different classes of men. That 
mode of charity is therefore most beneficial to its ob- 
ject, which tends, in the highest degi-ee, to cultivate the 
kinder and better feelings of his nature. Hence, it is far 
better for the needy, for us to administer alms ourselves, 
than to employ others to do it for us- The gratitude of 
the recipient is but feebly exercised by the mere fact of 
the relief of his necessities,^ unless he also have the oppor- 
tunity of witnessing the temper and spirit from which the 
charity proceeds. 

II. Principles which relate to the benefactor. 

The Christian religion considers charity as a means of 
moral cultivation, specially to the benefactor. It is always, 
in the New Testament, classed ^\^th prayer, and is gov- 
erned essentially by the same rules. This may be seen 
from our Savior's Sermon on the Mount. 

Hence, 1. That method of charity is always the best 
which calls into most active exercise the virtues of self- 
denial and personal sacrifice, as they naturally arise from 



UNHAPPINESS FROM PHYSICAL CON^DITION. 377 

kindness, sympathy and charity, or universal love to God 
and man. And, on the contrary, all those modes of benev- 
olence must be essentially defective, in which the distresses 
of others are relieved, without the necessary exercise of 
these virtues. 

2. As charity is a religious service, and an important 
means of cultivating love to God, and as it does this in prO' 
portion as all external and inferior motives are withdrawn, 
it is desirable, also, that, in so far as possible, it be done 
secretly. The doing of it in this manner removes the 
motives derived from the love of applause, and leaves us 
simply those motives which are derived from love to God. 
Those modes of benevolence which are, in their nature, the 
farthest removed from human observation, are, cceteris 
paribus, the most favorable to the cultivation of virtue, and 
are, therefore, always to be preferred. 

Hence, in general, those modes of charity are to be 
preferred, which most successfully teach the object to re- 
lieve himself, and which tend most directly to the moral 
benefit of both parties. And, on the contrary, those modes 
of charity are the worst, which are the farthest removed 
from such tendencies. 

These principles may easily be applied to some of the 
ordinary forms of benevolence. 

I. Public provision for the jpoor by poor laws will be 
found defective in every respect. 

1. It makes a provision for the poor because he is poor. 
This, as I have said, gives no claim upon charity. 

2. It in no manner teaches the man to help himself; 
but, on the contrary, tends to take from him the natural 
stimulus for doing so. 

3. Hence, its tendency is to multiply paupers, vagrants, 
and idlers. Such have been its effects, to an appalling 
degree, in Great Britain ; and such, from the nature of the 
case, must they be every where. It is taking from the in- 
dustrious a portion of their earnings, and conferring them, 
without equivalent, upon the idle. 

4. It produces no feeling of gratitude towards the bene- 
factor, but the contrary. In those countries where poor- 
rates are the highest, the poor will be found the most 

32* 



378 UNHAPPINESS FROM PHYSICAL CONDITION. 

discontented and lawless, and the most inveterate against 
the rich. 

5. It produces no moral intercourse between the parties 
concerned, but leaves the distribution of bounty to the hand 
of an official agent. Hence, what is received, is claimed 
hy the poor as a matter of right ; and the only feeling- 
elicited is that of displeasure, because it is so httle. 

6. It produces no feeling of sympathy or of compassion 
%n the rich ; but, being extorted by force of law, is viewed 
as a mere matter of compulsion. 

Hence, every principle would decide against poor laws 
as a means of charity. If, however, the society undertake 
to control the capital of the individual, and manage it as 
they will, and by this management make paupers by thou- 
sands, I do think they are under obligation to support them. 
If, however, they insist upon pursuing this course, it would 
DC better that every poor-house should be a work-house ; and 
that the poor-rates should always be given as the wages of 
some form of labor. 

I would not, however, be understood to decide against 
all public provision for the necessitous. The aged and 
infirm, the sick, the disabled, and the orphan, in the failure 
of their relatives, should be relieved, and relieved cheerflilly 
and bountifiilly, by the public. I only speak of provision 
for the poor, because they are poor, and do not refer to 
provision made for other reasons. Where the circum- 
stances of the recipient render him an object of charity, let 
him be relieved, freely and tenderly. But, if he be not an 
object of charity, to make public provision for him is inju- 
rious. 

II. Voluntary associations for purposes of charity. 

Some of the inconveniences arising from poor-laws are 
liable to ensue, from the mode of conducting these insti- 
tutions. 

1. They do not make the strongest appeal to the moral 
feelings of the recipient. Gratitude is much diminished, 
when we are benefited by a public charity, instead of a 
private benefactor. 

2. This is specially the case, when a charity is funded; 
and the almoner is merely the official organ of a distribution, 



UNHAPPINESS FROM PHYSICAL CONDITION. 379 

in which he can have but a comparatively trifling personal 
interest. 

3. The moral effect upon the giver is much less than it 
would be, if he and the recipient were brought immediately 
into contact. Paying an annual subscription to a charity, 
has a very different effect from visiting and relieving, with 
our own hands, the necessities and distresses of the sick and 
the afflicted. 

I by no means, however, say that such associations are 
not exceedingly valuable. Many kinds ot charity cannot 
wei. be caiTied on without them. The comparatively poor 
are thus enabled to unite in extensive and important works 
of benevolence. In many cases, the expenditure of capital, 
necessary for conducting a benevolent enterprise, requires a 
general effort. I however say, that the rich, who are able 
to labor pei'sonally in the cause of charity, should never 
leave the most desirable part of the work to be done by 
others. They should be their own almoners. If they will 
not do this, why then let them furnish funds to be distributed 
by others ; but let them remember, that they are losing by 
far the most valuable, that is, they are losing the moral 
benefit which God intended them to enjoy. God meant 
eveiy man to be charitable as much as to be prayer- 
ful ; and he never intended that the one duty, any more 
than the other, should be done by a deputy. The same 
principles would lead us to conclude, what, I believe, ex- 
perience has always shown to be the fact, that a fund for 
the support of the poor of a town, has always proved a 
nuisance instead of a benefit. And, in general, as chanty 
's intended to be a means of moral improvement to botli 
parties, and specially to the benefactor, those modes of 
charity which do not have in view the cultivation of moral 
exceUence, are, in this respect, essentially defective. 



<i80 OF UNHAPPINESS FROM 

SECTION II. 

OF UNHAPPINESS FROM INTELLECTUAL CONDITION. 

To an intellectual being, in a cultivated state of society, 
a certain amount of knowledge may be considered a neces- 
sary of life. If be do not possess it, he is shut out from a vast 
source of enjoyment ; is liable to become the dupe of the 
designing, and to sink down into mere animal existence. 
By learning how to read, he is enabled to acquire the whole 
knowledge which is contained within a language. By 
writing, he can act where he cannot be personally present ; 
and can, also, benefit others by the communication of his 
own thoughts. By a knowledge of accounts, he is enabled 
to be just in his dealings with othei^, and to be assured that 
others are just in their dealings with him. 

So much as this may be considered necessary ; the rest 
is not so. The duty of thus educating a child, belongs, in 
the first instance, to the parent. But since, as so much 
knowledge as this is indispensable to the child's happiness, 
if the parent be unable to furnish it, the child becomes, in 
so far, an object of charity. And, as it is for the benefit of 
the whole society, that every individual should be thus far 
instructed, it is properly, also, a subject of social regulation. 
And, hence, provision should be made, at public expense, 
for the educ-ation of those who are unable to procure it. 

Nevertheless, this education is a valuable consideration 
to the receiver ; and, hence, our former principle ought not 
to be departed from. Although the provision for this degree 
of education be properly made a matter of public enact- 
ment, yet every one should contribute to it, in so far as he 
is able. Unless this be done, he will cease to value it, and 
it will be merely a premium on idleness. And, hence, I 
think it will be found that large permanent funds for the 
purpose of general education, are commonly injurious to the 
cause of education itself. A small fund, annually appro- 
priated, may be useful to stimulate an unlettered people to 
exertion : but it is, probably, useful for no other purpose. 



INTELLECTUAL CONDITION. 381 

A better plan, perhaps, would be to oblige each district to 
support schools at its own expense. This would produce 
the greatest possible interest in the subject, and the most 
thorough supervision of the schools. It is generally be- 
lieved that the school funds of some of our older states have 
been injurious to the cause of common education. 

In so far, then, as education is necessary to enable us 
to accomplish the purposes of our existence, and to perform 
our duties to society, the obhgation to make a provision for 
the universal enjoyment of it, comes within the law of 
benevolence. Beyond this, it may very properly be left 
to the arrangements of Divine Providence ; that is, every 
one may be left to acquire as much more as his circum- 
stances will allow. There is no more reason why all men 
should be educated alike, than why they should all dress 
alike, or live in equally expensive houses. As ci\alization 
advances, and capital accumulates, and labor becomes 
more productive, it will become possible for every man to 
acquii-e more and more intellectual cultivation. In this 
manner, the condition of all classes is to be improved ; and 
not by the impracticable attempt to render the education 
of all classes, at any one time, alike. 

While I say this, however, I by no means assert that it 
is not a laudable and excellent charity, to assist, in the ac- 
quisition of knowledge, any person who gives promise of 
peculiar usefulness. Benevolence is frequently exerted, 
under such circumstances, with the greatest possible benefit, 
and produces the most gratifying and the most abundant 
results. There can surely be no more delightful mode of 
charity, than that which raises from the dust modest and 
despairing talent, and enables it to bless and adorn society. 
Yet, on such a subject as this, it is manifest that no general 
rule can be given. The duty must be determined by the 
respective condition of the parties. It is, however, proper 
to add, that aid of this kind should be given with discre- 
tion ; and never in such a manner as to remove from genius 
the necessity of depending on itself. The early struggle for 
independence, is a natural and a salutary discipline for 
talent. Genius was given, not for the benefit of its poS' 
sesscr, but for the benefit of others. And the sooner its 



382 OF UNHAPPINESS FROM 

possessor is taught the necessity of exertmg it to practical 
purpose, the better is it for him, and the better for society. 
The poets tell us much of the amount of genius which has 
been nipped in the bud by the frosts of adversity. This, 
doubtless, is true ; but let it not be forgotten that, by the 
law of our nature, early promise is frequently delusive. 
The poets do not tell us how great an amount of genius is 
also withered by the sun of prosperity. It is probable that 
a greater proportion of talent is destroyed, or rendered val- 
ueless, by riches than by poverty ; and the rapid mutations 
of society, I think, demonstrate this to be the fact. 

The same principles will, in substance, apply to the case 
in which, for a particular object, as for the promotion of 
religion, it is deemed expedient to increase the proportion 
of professionally educated men. 

In this, as in every other instance, if we would be truly 
useful, our charities must be governed by the principles 
which God has marked out In the constitution of man. 

The general principle of God's government is, that, foi' 
all valuable possessions, we must render a consideration , 
and experience has taught, that it is impossible to vary 
from this rule, without the liability of doing injury to the 
recipient. The reason is obvious ; for we can scarcely, in 
any other manner, injure another so seriously, as by lead- 
ing him to rely on any one else than himself, or to feel 
that the public are under obligations to take charge of him. 

Hence, charity of this sort should be governed by the 
following principles : 

1. The recipient should receive no more than is neces- 
sary, with his own industrious exertions, to accomplish the 
object. 

2. To loan money is better than to give it. 

3. It should be distributed in such manner as most 
successfully* to cultivate the good dispositions of both 
parties. 

Hence, private and personal assistance, when practica- 
ble, has some advantages over that derived from associa- 
tions. And, hence, such supervision is always desirable, as 
will restrict the charity to that class of persons for whom 
k was designed, and as will render it of such a nature, 



INTELLECTUAL CONDITION. 383 

that those of eveiy other class would be under the least 
possible temptation to desire it. 

And, in aiTanging the plan of such an association, it 
should always be borne in mind, that the sudden change in 
all the prospects of a young man's life, which is made by 
setting before him the j)rospect of a professional education, 
is one of the severest trials of human vii*tue. 

Public provision for scientific education, does not come 
under the head of henevolencc. Inasmuch, however, as 
the cultivation of science is advantageous to all classes of 
a community, it is for the interest of the whole that it be 
cultivated. But the means of scientific education, as phil- 
osophical instruments, libraries, and buildings, could never 
be furnished by instmctors, without rendering this kind of 
education so expensive as to restrict it entirely to the rich. 
It is, therefore, wise for a community to make these pro- 
\dsions out of the com non stock, so that a fair opportunity 
of improvement may bo open to all. When, however, the 
public fails to discharge this duty, it is frequently, with 
great patriotism and benevolence, assumed by individuals. 
I know of no more interesting instances of expansive benevo- 
lence, than those in which wealth is appropriated to the 
noble purpose of diffusing over all coming time, " the light 
of science and the blessings of religion." Who can esti- 
mate the blessings wliich the founders of Oxford and Cam- 
bridge universities have confen-ed upon the human race ! 



384 



CHAPTER THIRD. 

BENEVOLENCE TO THE WICKED. 

We now come to treat of a form of benevolence, in 
which other elements are combined. What is our duty to 
our fellow-men who are wicked ? 

A wicked man is, from the nature of the case, unhappy. 
He is depriving himself of all the pleasures of virtue ; he 
is giving strength to those passions, which, by their un- 
governable power, are already tormenting him with insati- 
able and ungratified desire ; he is incurring the pains of a 
guilty conscience here, and he is, in the expressive language 
of the Scriptures, " treasuring up wrath, against the day of 
wrath and of righteous indignation." It is manifest, then, 
that no one has stronger claims upon our pity, than such a 
fellow-creature as this. 

So far, then, as a wicked man is miserable or unhappy, 
he is entitled to our pity, and, of course, to our love and 
benevolence. But this is not all. He is also wicked ; and 
the proper feeling with which we should contemplate 
wickedness, is that of disgust, or moral indignation. Hence, 
a complex feeling in such a case naturally arises — that of 
benevolence, because he is unhappy ; and, that of moral 
indignation, because he is sinful. These two sentiments, 
however, in no manner conflict with, but on the contrary, 
if properly understood, strengthen each other. 

The fact of a fellow-creature's wickedness, affects not 
our obligation to treat him with the same benevolence as 
would be demanded in any other case. If he is necessi- 
tous, or sick, or afflicted, or ignorant, our duty to relieve, 
and sympathize with, and assist, and teach him, are the 
same as though he were virtuous. God sends his rain on 
the evil and on the ^oo^. 

But especially, as the most a irming source of his mis- 



I 



BENEVOLENCE TO THE WICKED. 385 

ery is liis moral character, the more we detest his wicked- 
ness, the more strongly would benevolence urge us to 
make every effort in our power to reclaim him. This, 
surely, is the highest exercise of charity ; for virtue is the 
true solace against all the evils incident ta the present life, 
and it is only by being virtuous that we can hope for eternal 
felicity. 

We are bound, then, by the law of benevolence, to labor 
to reclaim the wicked : — 

1. By example, by personal kindness, by conversation, 
and by instmcting them in the path of duty, and persuading 
them to follow it. 

2. As the most efficacious mode of promoting moral ref- 
oi-mation, yet discovered, is found to be the inculcation of 
the truths of the Holy Scriptures ; it is our imperative duty 
to bring these tmths into contact with the consciences of 
men. This duty is, by our Savior, imposed upon all his 
disciples : " Go ye into all the world, and preach the gos- 
pel to every creature," 

3. As all men are our brethren, and as all men equally 
need moral light, and as experience has abundantly shown, 
that all men will be both wicked and unhappy without it, 
this duty is binding upon every man towards the whole 
human race. The sentiments of Dr. Johnson on this sub- 
ject, in his letter on the translation of the Scriptures into 
the Gaelic language, are so apposite to my purpose, that I 
beg leave to introduce them here, though they have been 
so frequently published. " If obedience to the will of God 
be necessary to happiness, and knowledge of his will ne- 
cessary to obedience, I know not how he that withholds this 
knowledge, or delays it, can be said to love his neighbor as 
himself. He that voluntarily contmues in ignorance is guilty 
of all the crimes which that ignorance produces ; as, to him 
that should extinguish the tapers of a light-house, might be 
justly imputed the calamities of shipwrecks. Christianity is 
the highest perfection of humanity ; and as no man is good 
but as he wishes the good of others, no man can be good in 
the highest degree who wishes not to others the largest 
measures of the greatest good." — Life, Anno 1766. 

We see, then, that, in so far as wicked men are by their 
33 



386^ BENEVOLENCE TO THE WICKED. 

wickedness miserable, benevolence renders it our duty to 
reclaim them. And to such benevolence the highest re- 
wards are promised. " They that turn many to righteous- 
ness shall shine as the stars for ever and ever." But this 
is not all. If we love our Father in heaven, it must paift 
us to see his children violating his just and holy laws, 
abusing his goodness, rendering not only themselves but 
also his other children miserable, and exposing themselves 
and others to his eternal displeasure. The love of God 
would prompt us to check these evils, and to teach our 
brethren to serve, and love, and reverence our common 
Father, and to become his obedient children, both now and 
for ever. 

Nor is either of these sentiments inconsistent with the 
greatest moral aversion to the crime. The more hateful 
to us is the conduct of those whom we love, the more 
zealous will be our endeavors to bring them back to virtue. 
And surely the more we are sensible of the evil of sin 
against God, the more desirous must we be to teach his 
creatures to love and obey him. 

The perfect exemplification of both of these sentiments 
is found in the character of our Lord and Savior Jesus 
Christ. While, in all his conduct and teachings, we observe 
the most intense abhorrence of every form of moral evil, yet 
we always find t combined with a love for the happiness, 
both temporal and spiritual, of man ; which, in all its bear- 
ings, transcends the limits of finite comprehension. This is 
the example which God has held forth for our imitation. 
It would be easy to show that the improvement of the 
moral character of our fellow-men is also the surest method 
of promoting their physicalj intellectual, and social hap- 
piness. 



387 



CHAPTER FOURTH. 

BENEVOLENCE TOWARD THE INJURIOUS. 

The cases to be considered here are three : 

I. Where injury is committed by an individual upon an 
'ndividual. 

II. Where injuiy is committed by an individual upon 

society. 

III. Where injury is committed by a society upon a 
society. 

I. Where an injury is committed by an individual upon 
an individual. 

In this case, the offender is guilty of wickedness, and of 
violation of our personal rights. 

1. In so far as the action is wicked, it should excite our 
moral detestation, just as in the case in which wrong is done 
to any one else. 

2. In so far as the wicked man is unhappy, he should 
excite our pity, and our active effort to benefit him. 

3. As the cause of this unhappiness is moral wrong, it is 
our duty to reclaim him. 

4. Inasmuch as the injury is done to us, it is our duty to 
forgive him. On this condition alone can we hope to be 
forgiven. 

5. Yet more ; inasmuch as the injury is done to us, it 
gives us an opportunity of exercising special and peculiar 
virtue. It is therefore our special duty to overcome it by 
good ; that is, the duty of reclaiming him from wrong rests 
specially upon us ; and is it to be fulfilled by manifesting 
towards him particular kindness, and the most cheerfuf 
willingness to serve him. " Be not overcome of evil, but 
overcome evil with good.^^ That is, it is our special duty, 
by an exhibition of peculiar benevolence, to reclaim the 
vnjurious person to virtue. 



388 BENEVOLENCE TOWARD THE INJURIOUS. 

Such is plainly the teaching of the Holy Scriptures. It 
will require but a few words to show that this is the course 
of conduct indicated by the conditions of our being. 

1. I think that every one must acknowledge this to be 
the course pointed out by the most exalted virtue. Every 
man's conscience testifies, that to reward evil with good 
is noble, while the opposite course is mean. There is 
nothing more strongly indicative of littleness of spirit, than 
revenge. 

2. This mode of treating injuries has a manifest tendency 
to put an end to injury, and every form of ill-will : 

For, 1. No man can long continue to injure him, who 
requites injury with nothing but goodness. 

2. It improves the heart of the offender, and thus not 
only puts an end to the injury at that particular time, but 
also greatly diminishes the probability of its recurrence at 
any subsequent time. Were this course universally pur-- 
sued, there would be done on earth the least possible injury. 

3. It improves, in the most signal manner, the offended 
person himself; and thus renders it less likely that he will 
ever conmiit an injury himself. 

In a word, the tendency of this mode of treating an inju- 
rious person, is to diminish indefinitely the liability to injury, 
and to render all parties both happier and better. 

On the contrary, the tendency of retaliation is exactly 
the reverse. We should consider, 

1. That the offender is a creature of God, and we are 
bound to treat him as God has commanded. Now, no 
treatment which we have received from another, gives us, 
by the law of God, any right to treat him in any other 
manner than with kindness. That he has violated his duty 
towards us and towards God, affords no reason why we 
should be guilty of the same crimes. 

2. The tendency of retaliation is, to increase, and fos- 
ter, and multiply wrongs, absolutely without end. Such, 
we see, is its effect among savage nations. 

3. Retaliation renders neither party better, but always 
renders both parties worse. The offended party who re- 
taliates, does a mean action when he might have done a 
noble one. 



BENEVOLENCE TOWARD THE INJURIOUS. 389 

Such, then, is the scriptural mode of adjusting individual 
differences. 

II. When the individual has committed an injur}' against 
society. 

Such is the case when an offender has violated a law of 
society, and comes under its condemnation. In what way 
and on what principles is society bound to treat him ? 

1. The crime being one which, if permitted, would 
greatly injure if not destroy society, it is necessary that it 
be prevented. Society has, therefore, a right to take such 
measures as will insure its prevention. This prevention 
may always be secured by solitary confinement. 

But, this being done, society is under the same obliga- 
tions to the offender, as the several individuals composing 
the society are under to him. Hence, — 

2. They are bound to seek his happiness by reclaiming 
him ; that is, to direct all treatment of him, while under 
their care, with distinct reference to his moral improvement. 
This is the law of benevolence, and it is obligatory no less 
on societies than on individuals. Every one must see that 
die tendency of a system of prison discipline of this land 
must be to diminish crime ; while that of any other system 
must be, and always has been, to increase it. 

Nor is this chimerical. The whole history of prisons has 
tended to establish precisely this result. Prisons which, 
have been conducted on the principle of retaliation, have 
every where multiplied felons ; while those which have 
been conducted on the principle of rendering a prison a 
school of moral reformation, have, thus far, succeeded beyond 
even the anticipations of their friends. Such a prison is 
also the greatest terror to a wicked man ; and it ceases not 
to be so, until he becomes, at least, comparatively virtuous. 
The whole experience of John Howard is summed up by 
himself in a single sentence : " It is in vain to punish the 
wicked, unless you seek to reclaim them." 

By what I have said above, I would not be understood 
to deny the right of society to punish murder by death. 
This right, I think, however, is to be established, not by 
the principles of natural law, but by the command of God 
to Noah. The precept, in this case, seems to me to hava 
33* 



390 BENEVOLENCE TOWARD THE INJURIOUS. 

been given to the whole human race, and to be still obli 
gatory. 

III. Where one society violates the rights of another 
society. The principles of the gospel, already explained, 
apply equally to this as to the preceding cases. 

1. The individual has, by the law of God, no right to 
return evil for evil ; but is bound to conduct towards every 
other individual^ of what nation soever, upon the principle 
of charity. 

2. The individual has no right to authorize society to do 
any thing contrary to the law of God ; that is to say, men 
connected in societies are under the same moral law as 
individuals. What is forbidden to the one is forbidden also 
to the other. 

3. Hence, I think we must conclude that an injury is to 
be treated in the same manner ; that is, that we are under 
obligation to forgive the offending party, and to strive to 
render him both better and happier. 

4. Hence, it would seem that all wars are contrary to 
the revealed will of God, and that the individual has no 
right to commit to society, nor society to commit to govern- 
ment, the power to declare war. 

Such, I must confess, seems to me to be the will of our 
Creator ; and, hence, that, to all arguments brought in 
•favor of war, it would be a sufficient answer, that God has 
forbidden it, and that no consequences can possibly be con- 
ceived to arise from keeping his law, so terrible as those 
which must arise from violating it. God commands us to 
love every man, alien or citizen, Samaritan or Jew, as our- 
selves ; and the act neither of society nor of government can 
render it our duty to violate this command. 

But let us look at the arguments offered in support of 
war. 

The miseries of war are acknowledged. Its expense, 
at last, begins to be estimated. Its effects upon the physi- 
cal, intellectual, and moral condition of a nation, are de- 
plored. It is granted to be a most calamitous remedy for 
evils, and the most awful scourge that can be inflicted upon 
the human race. It will be granted, thjen, that the resort 
to it, if not necessary, must be intensely wicked ; and that 



BENEVOLENCE TOWARD THE INJURIOUS. 391 

it It be not in the highest deo^ree useful, it ought to be uni- 
versally abohshed. 

It is also granted, that the universal abolition of war 
would be one of the srreatest blessin2;s that could be con- 
ferred upon the human race. As to the general principle, 
then, there is no dispute. The only question which arises 
is, whether it be not necessary for one nation to act upon 
the principle of offence and defence so long as other nations 
continue to do the same ? 

I answer, first. It is granted that it would be better 
for man in general, if wars were abolished, and all means, 
both of offence and defence, abandoned. Now, this seems 
to me to admit, that this is the law under which God has 
created man. But this being admitted, the question seems 
to be at an end ; for God never places men under circum- 
stances in which it is either wise, or necessary, or innocent, 
to violate his laws. Is it for the advantage of him who 
lives among a community of thieves, to steal ; or for one 
who lives among a community of liars, to lie ? On the 
contrary, do not honesty and veracity, under these very 
circumstances, give him additional and peculiar advantages 
over his companions ? 

Secondly. Let us suppose a nation to abandon all 
means, both of offence and of defence, to lay aside all 
power of inflicting injury, and to rely for self-preservation 
solely upon the justice of its own conduct, and the moral 
effect which such a course of conduct would produce upon 
the consciences of men. How would such a nation pro- 
cure redress of grievances 1 and how would it be protected 
from foreign aggression 1 

I. Of redress of grievances. Under this head would 
be comprehended violation of treaties, spoliation of property, 
and ill-treatment of its citizens. 

1 reply, 1. The very fact that a nation relied solely upon 
the justice of its measures, and the benevolence of its con- 
duct, would do more than any thing else to prevent the 
occurrence of injury. The moral sentiment of every com- 
munity would rise in opposition to injury inflicted upon the 
just, the kind, and the merciful. Thus, by this course, the 



39S BENEVOLENCE TOWARD THE INJURIOUS. 

probabilities of aggression are rendered as few as the nature 
of man will permit. 

2. But suppose injury to be done. I reply, the proper 
appeal for moral beings upon moral questions, is not to 
physical force, but to the consciences of men. Let the 
wrong be set forth, but be set forth in the spirit of love ; 
and in this manner, if in any, will the consciences of men 
be aroused to justice. 

3. But suppose this method to fail. Why, then, let us 
suffer the injury. This is the preferable evil of tne two. 
Because they have injured us a little, it does not follow 
that we should injure ourselves much. But it will be said, 
what is then to become of our national honor ? I answer, 
first, if we have acted justly, we surely are not dishonored. 
The dishonor rests upon those who have done wickedly. 
I answer again, national honor is displayed in forbearance, 
in forgiveness, in requiting faithlessness with fidelity, and 
grievances with kindness and good will. These virtues are 
surely as delightful and as honorable in nations as in indi- 
viduals. 

But it may be asked, what is to prevent repeated and 
continued aggression ? I answer, first, not instruments of 
destruction, but the moral principle which God has placed 
in the bosom of every man. I think that obedience to the 
law of God, on the part of the injured, is the surest preven- 
tive against the repetition of injury. I answer, secondly, 
suppose that acting in obedience to the law of benevolence 
will not prevent the repetition of injury, will acting upon the 
principle of retaliation prevent it ? This is really the true 
question. The evil tempers of the human heart are al- 
low^ed to exist, and we are inquiring in what manner shall 
we suffer the least injury from them ; whether by obeying 
the law of benevolence, or that of retaliation ? It is not 
necessary, therefore, to show, that, by adopting the law of 
benevolence, we shall not suffer at all ; but that, by adopt- 
ing it, we shall suffer less than by the opposite course ; and 
that a nation would actually thus suffer less upon the whole 
than by any other course, cannot, I think, be doubted by 
any one who will calmly reflect upon the subject. 



BENEVOLENCE TOWARD THE INJURIOUS. 393 

II. How would such a nation be protected from external 
attack and entire subjugation ? I answer, by adopting the 
law of benevolence, a nation would render such an event 
in the highest degree improbable. The causes of national 
war are most commonly, the love of plunder, and the love 
of glor}\ The fct of these is rarely, if ever, sufficient to 
stimulate men to tlie ferocity necessary to war, unless when 
assisted by the second. And by adopting as the rule 
of our conduct the law of benevolence, all motive arising 
from the second cause is taken away. There is not a 
nation in Europe that could be led on to war against a 
harmless, just, forgiving, and defenceless people. 

But suppose such a case really should occur, what are 
we then to do ? I answer, is it certain that we can do better 
than suffer injury with forgiveness and love, looking up to 
God, who, in his holy habitation, is the Judge of the whole 
earth ? And if it be said, we shall then all be subjected 
and enslaved, I answer again, have wars prevented men 
from being subjected and enslaved ? Is there a nation on 
the continent of Europe that has not been overrun by 
foreign troops several times, even within the present cen- 
tury ? And still more, is it not most commonly the case, 
that the very means by which we repel a despotism from 
abroad, only establishes over us a military despotism at 
home ? Since, then, the principle of retaliation will not, 
with any certainty, save a country from conquest, the real 
question, as before, is, by obedience to which law will a 
nation be most likely to escape it, by the law of retaliation, 
or by tliat of benevolence ? It seems to me, that a man 
who will calmly reflect, will see that the advantages of 
war, even in this respect, are much less than they have 
been generally estimated. 

I however would by no means assert that forgiveness of 
injuries alone is a sufficient protection against wrong. I 
suppose the real protection to be active benevolence. The 
Scriptures teach us that God has created men, both as in- 
dividuals and as societies, under the law of benevolence ; 
and that he intends this law to be obeyed. Societies have 
never yet thought of obeying it in their dealings with each 
otlier ; and men generally consider the allusion to it as 



3iJ4 BENEVOLENCE TOWARD THE INJURIOUS. 

pueiile. But this alters not the law of God, nor the pun- 
ishments which he inflicts upon nations for the violation of 
it. This punishment I suppose to be war. I believe 
aggression from a foreign nation to be the intimation from 
God that we are disobeying the law of benevolence, and 
that this is his mode of teaching nations their duty, in this 
respect, to each other. So that aggression seems to me in 
no manner to call for retaliation and injury, but rather 
to call for special kindness and good will. And still 
farther, the requiting evil with good, tends just as strongly 
to the cessation of all injury, in nations as in individuals. 
Let any man reflect upon the amount of pecuniary expen- 
diture, and the awful waste of human hfe, which the wars 
of the last hundred years have occasioned, and then I will 
ask him whether it be not evident, tliat the one hundredth 
part of this expense and suffering, if employed in the 
honest effort to render mankind wiser and better, would, 
long before this time, have banished wars from the earth, 
and rendered the civilized world like the garden of Eden. 

If this be true, it will follow, that the cultivation of a 
military spirit is injurious to a community, inasmuch as it 
aggravates the source of the evil, the corrupt passions of 
the human heart, by the very manner in which it attempts 
to correct the evil itself. 

I am aware that all this may be called visionary, roman- 
tic, and chimerical. This, however, neither makes it so, 
nor shows it to be so. The time to apply these epithets 
will be, when the justness of their application has been 
proved. And if it be said, these principles may all be 
very true, but you can never induce nations to act upon 
them ; I answer. If they be true, then God requires us 
thus to act ; and if this be the case, then that nation will be 
the happiest and the wisest, which is the first to obey his com- 
mandments. And, if it be said, that though all this be so, 
yet such is the present state of man, that until his social 
character be altered, the necessity of wars will exist ; I 
answer ; first, it is a solemn thing to meet the punishments 
which God inflicts for the transgression of his laws. And, 
secondly, inasmuch as the reason for this necessity arises 
from the social wickedness of man, we are under impera- 



i 



OUR DUTY TO BRUTES. 395 

li t obligations to strive to render that wickedness less ; 
anJ, by all the means in our power, to cultivate among 
nations a sphit of mutual kindness, forbearance, justice and 
benevolence. 



Note. I sliould be guilty of injustice to one class of 
my tellow-creatures, if 1 should close this treatise upon 
human duty, without a single remark upon our obligations 
to brutes. 

Brutes are sensitive beings, capable of, probably, as 
great degrees of pliysical pleasure and pain as ourselves.- 
They are endowed with instinct which is, probably, a form 
of intellect inferior to our own, but which, being gener- 
ically unlike to ours, we are unable to understand. They 
differ from us chieRy in being destitute of any moral 
faculty. 

We do not stand to them in the relation of equality. 
" Our right is paramount, and must extinguish theirs." 
We have, therefore, a right to use them to promote our 
comfort, and may innocently take their life, if our necessi- 
ties demand it. This righi over them, is given to us by 
the revealed will of God But, inasmuch as they, like 
oui^selves, are the creatines of God, we have no right to 
use them in any other manner than that which God has 
pennitted. They, as much as ourselves, are under his 
protection. 

We may, therefore, use them, 1. For our necessities. 
We are designed to subsist upon animal food ; and we may 
innocently slay them for this purpose. 

2. We may use them for labor, or for innocent physical 
recreation, as when we employ the horse for draught, or for 
the. saddle. 

3. But, while we so use them, we are bound to treat 
them kindly, to furnish them with sufficient food, and with 
convenient shelter. He who cannot feed a brute well 
ought not to own one. And when we put them to death 
it should be with the least possible pain. 

4. We are forbidden to treat them unkindly on any pre 



396 OUR DUTY TO BRUTES. 

tence, or for any reason. There can be no clearer indica 
tion of a degraded and ferocious temper, than cruelty t( 
animals. Hunting, in many cases, and horse-racing, seem 
to me liable to censure in this respect. Why should a 
man, for the sake of showing his skill as a marksman^ 
shoot down a poor animal, which he does not need for 
food ? Why should not the brute, that is harming no 
living thing, be permitted to enjoy the happiness of its 
physical nature unmolested ? " There they are privileged ; 
and he that hurts or harms them there, is guilty of a 
wrong." 

- 5. Hence, all amusements which consist in inflicting 
pain upon animals, such as bull-baiting, cock-fighting, he, 
are purely wicked. God never gave us power over ani- 
mals for such purposes. I can scarcely conceive of a 
more revolting exhibition of human nature, than that which 
is seen when men assemble to witness the misery which 
brutes inflict upon each other. Surely, nothing can tend 
more directly to harden men in worse than brutal ferocity. 



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wMmwMmmm mmEmm^Ewim w@mMB, 



LAKE SUPERIOR : its Physical Character, Vegetation and Animals, compared with 
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CHAMBERS' CYCLOP/EDIA OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. A Selection of 
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mwwm mmmmm^ 



THE PSALMIST: a Xew CoUection of HruNS for the use of the Baptist Churches. By 
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TH E M A R R I AGE RING; or, How to Make Home Happy. By Rev. John A. James. 

,31X 

THE CASKET OF JEWELS, for Young Christians. By James, Edwards, and 
Harris, ,31>^ 

THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN ; from the writings of John Harris, D. D ,31>4 

D A I LY M A N N A, for Christian Pilgrims. By Rev. Baron Stow, D. D ,31 )i 

THE CYPRESS WREATH ; a Book of Consolation for those who Mourn. Edited by 
Rev. RuFUS W. Griswold, ,31X 

THE YOUNG COMMUNICANT; an Aid to the Right Understanding and Spiritual 
Improvement of the Lord's Supper, }31X 

LYRIC GEMS ; a Collection of Original and Select Sacred Poetry. Edited by Rev. S. 
F.Smith, ,31>^ 

THE MOURNER'S CHAPLET ; an Offering of Sympathy for Bereaved Friends. 
Selected from American Poets. Edited by John Keese, jSlX 

THE ATTRACTIONS OF HEAVEN. Edited by Rev. H. A.Graves, ,31X 

%* Sets of ths above^ put up in neat boxes, convenient for packing, and forming a 
beautiful " Miniature Library,'''' of twelve volumes, 3,75 

THE SILENT COMFORTER ; a Companion for the Sick Room. By Louisa Patson 
Hopkins, ,31 >4 

GOLDEN GEMS, for the Christian. Selected from the writings of Rev. John Flavel, 
with a Memoir of the Author. By Rev. Joseph Banvard, ,Zl}i 

The above complete in fourteen volumes, in a neat box, 4,37% 

ELEGANT DOUBLE MINIATUllES. 

THE WEDDING GIFT ; or, the Duties and Pleasures of Domestic Life. Containing 
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THE YOUNG CHRISTIAN'S GUIDE to the Doctrines and Duties of a Religious 
Life. Containing '• Casket of Jewels " and " Active Christian." One volume,.... ,50 

THE MOURNER COMFORTED; containing the " Cypress Wreath," by Rev. R. W. 
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DAILY DUTIES ; containing the " Bible and the Closet" and the " Family Altar."— 
One volume, ,50 

THE CHRISTIAN'S PRIVATE COMPANION ; containing the '^ Daily Manna" 
and the " Young Communicant." One volume, ,50 

CONSOLATION FOR THE AFFLICTED; containing the "Silent Comforter" and 
the " Attractions of Heaven." One volume, ,50 

*;ji:* Sets of the above in neat boxes, six volumes, 3,00 

ORLANDINO : aStory of Self-Denial. By Edgeworth. 18mo, cloth, gilt, ,88 

THE HEAVENLY FOOTMAN ; or, a Description of the Man that gets to Heaven ; 

together with directions how to run so as to obtain. By John Bunyan. 32mo 

cloth, gilt,.... ,31>4 



CHAMBERS'S 

GYCLOP-/EDIA OF EiNGLlSH LITERATURE, 

A. 3£LECriOX OF THE CH()U:EST PRODUCTIONS OF ENGLISH AUTHORS, FROM THl 

EAR1.IEST TO THE PRESENT TIME: CONNECTED BY A CRITICAL 

AND lUOGRAPHICAL HISTORY. 

EDITED BY ROBERT CHAMBERS. 

ASSISTED BY RORERT CARKUTHERS AND OTHER EMINENT GENTLEMEN. 

Complete in two impeiial octavo vohimes, of more than fourteen 

hu7idred pages of double column letterpress^ and tipioards of 

three hundred elegant illustrations. 



This valuable work has now become so generally known and appreciated, that Viere nu4 
atarcely be any thing said in commendation, except to those who have not yet seen it 

The work embraces about One Thousand .Authors, chronologically arranged and classed 
03 Poets, Historians, Dramatists, Philosophers, Metaphysicians, Divines, etc., with choice 
itlectionsfrom their icriti:igs, connected by a Biographical, Historical, and Critical JVarra- 
tive ; thus presenting a complete view of English Literature, from the earliest to the present 
time. Let the reader open inhere he will, he cannot fail to find matter for profit and delight, 
which, for the most part, too, repeated perusals will only serve to make him enjoy the more. 
We have indeed infinite riches in a little room, JVo one, who has a taste for literatare, 
should allow himself , for a trifling consideration, to be without a id'ork which throws so 
much light upon Uie progress of the English language. The selections are gems — a 7nasa 
of valuable information in a condensed and elegant form. 

EXTRACTS FROM COMMENT) A TORT NOTICES. 

From W. H. Prescott, Author of ^' Ferdinand and fsabeUa." " The plan of the work 
is very judicious. * * It will put the reader in the proper point of view, for survey- 
ing thp whole ground over which he is travelling, * * Such readers cannot fail to 
protil largely hy the labors of the critic who has the talent and taste to separate Mhat 
is really beautiful anJ worthy of their study from what is superfluous." 
"I concur in the foregoing opinion of Mr. Prescott." — Edward Everett. 
"It will be a useful and popular work, indispensable to the library of a student of 
English literature." — i^a«cw Wayland. 

"We hail with peculiar pleasure the appearance of this work, and more especially 
its republication in this country at a price which places it within the reach of a groat 
number of readers." — J\rorth American Review. 

" This is the most valuable and magnificent contribution to a sound popular Mtora- 
ture that this century has brought forth. It fills a place which was before a olank. 
Without it, English" literature, to almost all of our countrymen, educated or unedu- 
cated, is an imperfect, broken, disjointed mass. Much that is beautiful — the niosl 
perfect and graceful portions, undoubtedly — was already possessed ; but it was not 
a whole. Every intelligent man, every inquiring mind, every scholar, felt that the 
foundation was mi.'sing. Chambers's CyclopaBdia supplies this radical defect. It be- 
gins with the beginning ; and, step by step, gives to every one who has the intellect oi 
taste to enjoy it a view of English literature in all its complete, beautiful, and perfect 
proportions." — Omndaga Democrat, JsT. Y, 

" We hope that ".eacners will avail themselves of an early opportunity to obtain a 
work so well calculated to impart useful knowledge, with tlie pleasures and ornaments 
of the English classics. The work will undoubtedly find a place in our district and 
other public libraries; yet it should be the ' vade mecum ' of every scholar." — 
Teachers^ Advocate, Syracuse, JV*. Y. 

" The work is finely conceived to meet a popular want, is full of literary instructioa, 
and is variously embellished with engravings illustrative of English antiquities, liia- 
torv, and biography. Tire typography throughout is beautiful." — Christian Reflector, 
Boston. 

" The design has been well executed by the selection and concentration of some of 
the best productions of English intellect, from the earliest Anglo-Saxon writers down 
to those of the present day. No one can give a glance at the work without being 
struck with its beauty and cheapness." — Boston Courier. 

" We should be glad if any thing we can say would Aivor this design. The elega.nce 
of the execution fea?ts the eye with beauty, and the whole is suited to refine and ele- 
vate the taste. And we might ask, who can fail to go back to its beginning, and trace 
his mother-tongue from its rude infancy to its present maturity, elegance, and richness i' " 
Christian Mirror, Portland. 

*.• The Publishers of the AMFRICAN Edition of this valuable work desire to state that, tjesideg Hm 
uumeroiis pictorial illustrations in the English Edition, they have jre.Htly enriched the work by the addniou 
•f fine iteel and mezzotint engravings of t'he heads of Shakspeare, Addison, Byron ; a full ieii^.h portrait 
•f Dr. Johnson, and a beauiitnl scenic representation of Oliver GoUsmith and Dr. Johnson. Theie imnor- 
urn and elegant addilioua, toother with superior paper and bindinj, must give this a decided piefercesa 
rrer all other editions. 



rOR SCHOOL AND FAMILY LIBRARIES. 



CHAMBEES'S MISCELLANY 

OE USEFUL AND ENTERTAINING KNOWLEDGE, 

TEN VOLUMES, ELEGANTLY ILLUSTRATED. 



The design of the Miscellanv is to supply the increasing demand for useful, 
Instructive, and entertaining reading, and to bring all the aids of literature to bear 
on the cultivation of the feelings and understanding of the people — to impress correct 
views on important moral and social questions — to furnish an unobtrusive Msnd 
and guide, a lively fireside companion, as far as that object can be attained tiaough 
the instrumentality of books. 

This work is confidently commended to Teachers, School Committees, and 
all others interested in the formation of " School Libraries," as the very best work 
for this purpose. Its wide range of subjects, presented in the most popular style, 
makes it exceedingly interesting and instructive to all classes. The most flat- 
tering testimonials from distinguished school teachers and others, expressing an 
earnest desire to have it introduced into all school libraries, have been received by 
the publishers. 

From George B. Emerson, Esq., Chairman of the Book Committee of the Boston Schools. 
— "I have examined with a good deal of care ' Chambers's Miscellany of Useful 
and Entertaining Knowledge,' particularly with reference to its suitableness to 
form parts of a library for young persons. It is, indeed, a library in itself, and one 
of great value, containing very choice selections in history, biography, natural 
history, poetry, art, physiology, elegant fiction, and various departments of science, 
made with great taste and judgment, and with the highest moral and philanthropic 
purpose. It would be difficult to find any miscellany superior or even equal to it 
it richly deserves the epithets ' useful and entertaining,' and I would recommend 
it very strongly, as extremely well adapted to form parts of a library for the young, 
or of a social or circulating librarj^ in town or country." 

From the Rev. John O. Choules, D. D. — "I cannot resist t^ie desire which I feel 
to thank you for the valuable service which you have rendered to the public by 
placing this admirable work within the reach of all who have a desire to obtain 
knowledge. I am not acquainted with any similar collection in the English lan- 
guage that can compare with it for purposes of instruction or amusement. I should 
rejoice to see that set of books in every house in our country. I cannot think of 
any method by which a father can more materially benefit his children than by 
surrounding them with good books ; and if these charming and attractive volumes 
can be placed in the hands of the young, they will have their tastes formed for good 
reading. I shall labor to see the Miscellany circulated among my friends, and shall 
lose no opportunity to commend it every where." 

" They contain an excellent selection of historical, scientific, and miscellaneous 
articles in popular style, from the best writers of tho language. The work is ele- 
gantly printed and neatly illustrated, and is sold very cheap,". — Independent Dem- 
ecrat. Concord, JV. H. 

" It is just the book to take up at the close of a busy day ; and especially will it 
ehed a new charm over autumn and winter in-door scenes." — Christ. World, Boston, 

"The information contained in this work is surprisingly great; and for the fire- 
side, and the young particularly, it cannot fail to prove a most valuable and enter- 
taining companion." — JSTew York Evangelist. 

>' We are glad to see an American issue of this publication, and especially in so 
neat and convenient a form. It is an admirable compilation, distinguished by the 
good taste which has been shown in all the publications of the Messrs. Chambers. 
It unites the useful and the entertaining." — Mew York Commercial Advertiser. 

"It is an admirable compilation, containing interesting memoirs and historical 
sketches, which are useful, instructive, and entertaining. Every head of a family 
should supply himself with a copy for the benefit of liis children. " — Corning Journal. 
'The enterprising publishers deserve the thanks of every lover of the beautiful 
and true, for the cheap and tasteful style in which they have spread this truly val- 
uable work before the American people." — People's Advocate, Pa. 

" It is filled with subjects of interest, intended for the instruction of the youthful 
mind, such as biography, history, anecdotes, natural philosophy, &c." — JVeio 
Orle<ms Bee, 



